


Because We Know You Still Love Him

by anniewritesaboutstars



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - The Parent Trap Fusion, Anxious Cosette, Anxious Enjolras, Awesome Bahorel, Bahorel is smarter than he lets on, Blushing Enjolras, Combeferre & Courfeyrac & Enjolras Friendship (Les Misérables), Combeferre and Courfeyrac are amazing Uncles, Cosette and Eponine are twins!, Cosette is Enjolras' daughter, Enjolras Has Feelings, Enjolras and Grantaire are parents!, Enjolras is Elizabeth, Eponine is Grantaire's daughter, Flustered Enjolras, Getting Back Together, Grandfather Valjean, Grantaire is Nick, M/M, Montparnasse is Meredith, Mutual Pining, Non-Binary Jean Prouvaire, Pining Enjolras, Pining Grantaire, Post-Divorce, Twins, Vineyard owner Grantaire, lawyer Enjolras, soft enjolras, they are amazing parents!, triumvirate friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:54:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 57,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24219967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anniewritesaboutstars/pseuds/anniewritesaboutstars
Summary: Twelve years ago, Eponine and Cosette's parent's got married on the Queen Elizabeth Two, divorcing after a short time and leaving each child with only a picture of their other father. Now, at summer camp, twin sisters Eponine and Cosette are in for the shock of a lifetime. As they navigate unfamiliar countries, families, and their Dad's scheming new boyfriend, will Eponine and Cosette be able to reunite their parents and bring their family back together?Or, A Les Miserables Parent Trap AU where Eponine and Cosette are the twins, Grantaire is Nick Parker, and Enjolras is Elizabeth James.
Relationships: Combeferre/Courfeyrac (Les Misérables), Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 127
Kudos: 157





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys!
> 
> This is my first ever fanfiction that I have ever written. I had no idea that it would end up being an Enjoltaire Parent Trap fic! The thing is, the idea had just come to me one day and I couldn't stop thinking about it, because it like, fit perfectly??? Grantaire owning a vineyard??? Cosette and Eponine being sisters??? Enjolras and Grantaire having first divorced because they argued too much??? Like, it all just fit together so well! I really wanted to read a fic like that, but when I couldn't find any, I thought, screw it, write what you want to read. So, here we are. Because it's my first fic, I understand that the writing is probably really crappy, but hey, when is it not? Also, I have no beta reader because I'm a lonely soul. I sincerely hope you guys enjoy it, and as always, kudos and comments, and constructive criticism are always appreciated!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters belong to Les Miserables and all dialogues belong to The Parent Trap

_L is for the way you look at me  
O is for the only one I see  
V is very, very extraordinary  
E is even more than anyone that you adore can…_

A hand slides a ring engraved with the words _mon ange_ onto a delicate finger. A marriage contract is signed. The names read _Rene Grantaire_ and _Julien Enjolras_. The ceremony is officiated on a cruise ship. The couple kiss passionately under a spectacular show of fireworks.

_Love is all that I can give to you  
Love is more than just a game for two  
Two in love can make it  
Take my heart and please don't break it  
Love was made for me and you…_

The two dance away the night. A waiter pours each of them a glass of red wine. The label of the wine reads _Where dreams have no end_.

_L is for the way you look at me  
O is for the only one I see  
V is very, very extraordinary  
E is even more than anyone that you adore can…_

The taller man spins and spins and spins the shorter before pulling him in close and kissing him long and slow. The shorter blond man wraps his arms around the other’s neck as they gently sway together.

_Love is all that I can give to you  
Love is more than just a game for two  
Two in love can make it  
Take my heart and please don't break it  
Love was made for me and you…_

A photographer asks the couple if they would like a souvenir picture. At their agreement, she snaps a bright photo of the two together. A photo album emblazoned with the words _The Queen Elizabeth Two_ opens up and reveals a photo of two men, one curly blond hair and blue eyed, the other wildly curly black hair and green eyed smiling at each other with nothing but love in their eyes.

_Love was made for me and you  
Love was made for me and you…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our girls finally arrive at Camp Walden, where secrets and revelations will be seen in the near future...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my dear readers,
> 
> Well, here's chapter two, set after quite a significant time jump. If you're reading this chapter, thank you for giving my story a chance! I know that right now the chapters seem quite short, but I promise they get longer as the story continues. Happy reading!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All the characters belong to Les Miserables, and the dialogue and plot belongs to The Parent Trap.
> 
> -A

**11 years and 9 months later…**

Eleven-but-soon-to-be-twelve year old Eponine Grantaire was ecstatic to say the least. All around her the sounds of the bustling summer camp she had just arrived at thrummed in her head and left her blood pounding in excitement. It was her first summer away from home all by herself, and though a part of her missed her Dad already, she knew she was gonna love the next eight weeks at camp. It was a new chance to make friends, do all those stupid, cheesy camp activities that she had seen in movies with her Dad, and of course, cause a little mischief too. She couldn't help it; she thrived off of adventure. 

Eponine made her way over to the sign emblazoned with the words _Camp Walden_ , doing her best to avoid the chaos of rushing camp counselors and laughing children. Just underneath the sign sat a mountain of duffel bags probably belonging to the hundreds of kids who had just arrived. Buried beneath them all, just in eye's view, was Eponine's familiar purple bag. 

She gave it a tug, but found she was sorely lacking in strength. Again and again, Eponine pulled at the straps with as much muscle she could muster, but could not make the bag budge. Frustrated, she blew a strand of dark black hair out of her eyes. She felt a girl brush by her side, and as she watched, the girl pulled out her own bag with one massive tug. Eponine' eyes went wide.

"Now that's my kind of woman," she muttered under her breath. Hesitantly, she approached the girl. 

"Hey, I was wondering if you could—"

"If I could pull out your bag?" Eponine nodded quickly and shot her a smile of thanks as she pointed out the mass of purple and watched her heave it out with great strength.

"Thanks," she told her, clutching her duffel close to her chest.

"Don't mention it. I'm Azelma by the way. Love the whole 'dark rebel' aesthetic you've got going on."

As is human nature, when told her outfit looked nice, Eponine glanced down to see what she was wearing, as if she forgot that she was the one who dressed herself today. She had to admit however, her outfit did rock. She had stolen one of her Dad's old band t-shirts and then trimmed it to fit her own body, and paired it with a pair of black combats. Her black hair hung loose around her neck.

She was about to stammer out her second _thank you_ to the girl—Azelma—when she heard her name called out. Azelma's was called in quick succession as well as a few more. 

"Looks like you'll be bunking with me." 

Eponine smiled.

_______________________________________

To say she was nervous would be an understatement. Cosette Enjolras continued to twist her hands together and worry her lip. Nevermind that this was the first time she had been away from her Papa for so long, but she was in an _entirely different country altogether!_ While she desperately craved a sense of adventure she didn't always receive living with her rather protective father, she had to admit that in retrospect attending a summer camp thousands of miles away from her home London may have been a bit of a leap that was simply too far. At first her Papa wasn’t very keen on letting her go, but in the end, Uncle Courf was able to convince him to allow it.

 _Come on!_ He had said, _A girl’s gotta experience adventure! She’ll be fine! Don’t you understand! She wants adventure in the great wide somewhereeeee!!!_

_Okay okay! She can go, just please never sing that again._

_You know you love me!_

Her nervousness did not go unnoticed, and as always, Uncle Courfeyrac was there to calm her down, with a reassuring squeeze of her hands. She looked into his bright brown eyes, framed by dark curls. 

"Hey, it'll be okay 'Sette. Try to relax and have fun! We can't have every Enjolras maintain such a serious attitude, or your family would never see the joy in the light of day!" This garnered a laugh from the blonde. 

"I know I know it's just… what if I don't fit in here? What will I do for eight weeks without anyone to talk to? Without Papa?" At her words, Courfeyrac's eyes softened. He gave her a soft smile.

"Cosette they're gonna love you. You're the coolest kid I know." Cosette laughed.

"Uncle Courf I'm the only kid you know." He winked at her.

"Maybe. But that doesn't change the fact that you're hella cool. And smart and funny and kind. You'll see; the rest of the kids'll be lining up just to say hi to you. And besides if not, you can always just call and talk to your Uncle Courf." Cosette smiled and gave her uncle a hug. 

"Thanks Uncle Courf. I just… I just wish Papa were here." Courfeyrac tightened his grip on the girl. 

"He wanted to be here 'Sette, really. He just got caught up in his work is all. Besides, if he were here, he may not have let you go at all!" While her uncle's words may have been lighthearted, she could hear the truth behind them. She didn't resent her Papa at all for not coming with her; she loved him too much for that, and she knew how much he loved her. And while it was true that he had unfortunately been swamped with work the week she left for camp, she knew the real reason her Papa wasn't here was because it may have been too hard for him to let his little girl go out by herself like this.

And somewhere inside, Cosette knew that if he had come, she may not have had the courage to step out of the car and walk away towards camp. 

She pulled away from her uncle, but as she made to grab the door handle, he stopped her with a hand.

"Don't tell your Papa or your Uncle Combeferre, but I got you a little surprise as a parting gift." From his hands he protruded a fresh deck of cards and smiled at her. "Maybe you can finally find someone on this continent who can whoop your ass at poker." Cosette grinned at him. He was the only one who knew of her devious streak, being that he was the one who first taught her how to play the game. Her Papa disapproved of the game and the betting system, and her Uncle Combeferre believed her to be much too innocent to partake in such activities, but her Uncle Courf knew much better than to take her angelic looks at face value. 

"I seriously doubt it but thanks for it Uncle Courf."

He smiled at her, and then held out his hand. That could only mean one thing. In no less than sixteen moves, Cosette and Courfeyrac executed the secret handshake, complete with a bump of the hips.

After waving goodbye to her uncle and giving him a promise that she had remembered to pack all her essentials, vitamins, and medicines for in case she fell ill, (courtesy of a very worried Uncle Combeferre) Cosette turned to face the entrance of the camp. She smiled to herself as she felt something inside of her heart expand. There was something special about this camp, she could just feel it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all for this week! The story may seem to be moving at a slow pace, but I promise that next week it'll pick up traction. As always, comments, kudos, and constructive criticism are always appreciated. Thanks for reading and see you next week!
> 
> -A


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes finally meet each other in an ill-fated fencing match. Pranks, shenanigans, and petty revenge schemes abound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies,
> 
> The chapters are getting longer! Just a few quick notes: I've described Eponine and Cosette as looking completely identical apart from the difference in their hair colour (and stylistic choices of course), and yes, I know that's not at all how biology behind twins works, but like, come on guys, allow me some creative liberties. Also, I decided to describe Cosette and Eponine in a more vague fashion so that you guys can decide whether to imagine the girls as looking more like Eponine or Cosette.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All the characters belong to Les Miserables, and the dialogue and plot belongs to The Parent Trap.
> 
> -A

_"Touche!"_ Eponine felt so alive! She'd just discovered she had some sort of a hidden talent in fencing, and so far, she hadn't been bested by anyone. She could only imagine the look of pride her Dad would have had on his face if he could see her now. 

The camp counselor who had been watching over the event grinned as she held out Eponine's arm over her head, like the victor of the Olympic games.

"The winner and still undefeated champion, Eponine Grantaire!" She felt exhilarated and beamed as everyone around her clapped. "Do we have any challengers?" Just as she was about to crack a joke about having scared everyone away, she heard a voice from behind her.

"I'll take a whack at it." The girl spoke with a British accent slightly muffled by the visor of the fencing mask. Eponine smiled a little to herself before pulling down her own mask and turning to face her opponent. 

_Alright,_ she thought to herself, _prepare to be out-fenced British-lady._

The counselor tossed the girl a sword and they assumed their positions. And then the fight was on! 

It was magnificent to watch! Eponine attacked and attacked, but the girl was much too fast and lithe for her. With great ease, she parried and countered all of Eponine's thrusts. When she turned around, Eponine saw the girl take a swift jab at her, and in her haste, Eponine stepped backwards and lost her balance.

_Shit._

Down she fell, right—

—into a trough of water. 

As the rest of the crowd burst into laughter, the girl squeaked in horror. She hurried forward and stammered out a million apologies, stretching out her hand to help her up. But Eponine was mad, and humiliated, and she isn't anything if not a little petty.

"Let me help you," the girl said. As she gripped the hand offered to her, Eponine looked straight up into where she imagined the girl's eyes would be.

"No, let me help you!" And with that, she yanked on her hand and sent the girl crashing down into the trough with her. She shrieked at her.

"What's your problem?!"

"My problem? You're the one who landed me in the water!" They started to scuffle, but were both hauled out by the counselor who looked desperate to avoid this fight and get things back to a state of calm. 

"Okay! Looks like we have a new champion! Everyone give it up for Ms. Cosette Enjolras from London, England!" The camp burst out with applause and Eponine silently seethed. "Now come one girls, be good sportswomen and shake hands. Come on." Eponine huffed out a breath, and behind her, heard the girl—Cosette or whatever—do the same. With much reluctance, she took off her visor and turned to face the girl.

And that's when she felt like she'd been given an electric shock.

Something about Cosette looked familiar. Not just familiar in fact— she looked exactly like Eponine. If you simply looked past the striking golden hair, you could see the same blue eyes, sharp nose, and soft features. It was as if she were looking in the mirror at herself, and by the looks on Cosette's face, and the silence of the campers, it was clear she wasn't the only one who noticed. Uncomfortable with the silence and still a bit miffed about the earlier incident with the water trough, Eponine decided to play it nonchalant. 

"Why's everyone so quiet?" she asked loudly. Cosette had the most serious look on her face.

"Don't you see," she half whispered, "it's us. We… we… we look alike! We look exactly the same!" She spoke reverently, as if this was some important revelation. Just then the lunch bell rang and the crowd dispersed, still no doubt whispering about the most recent turn of events. 

Eponine decided now was the perfect time to get a bit of petty revenge. 

"Alike? I don't think so." Cosette frowned at this.

"How can you not see it?" Eponine cocked her head to the side and clicked her tongue.

"Well for starters your eyes are much more closer together than mine, your ears stick out, your teeth are crooked, and that nose… well don't worry, those things can be fixed. Not to mention that mess of blonde hair you have atop that little head of yours." Next to her, Azelma snickered. At this, Cosette's face flushed with rage and her face contorted in indignant anger.

"How dare you! You have no right to tell me whether I'm beautiful or not! Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and the standards of beauty you talk about is completely unachievable, and is pushed onto vulnerable young girls by rich capitalist corporations who seek to make millions of dollars off of the insecurity of women everywhere!" 

Eponine burst out laughing.

"Oh man do you even hear yourself? Newsflash blondie! This is summer camp, not Junior Model UN! Where'd you even hear that dumb speech from anyways? Did you copy it off from another celebrity trying to get in the good books of the public?"

Gavroche, the only boy in the camp, had quickly made friends with Cosette, and so he walked up to support his seething friend. 

"Want me to deck her for you?" he asked, angrily shoving up his arm sleeves. Eponine simply smirked.

"Hold on, I'm not finished yet? Do you want to know the real difference between the two of us?"

Cosette quirked an eyebrow at her and smirked back. Then she spoke.

"I have class and you don't? Or how about, I know how to fence and you don’t?”

Eponine's eyes flashed with anger. She took a step towards Cosette, but was stopped by the counselor.

"Alright ladies time to break up the love-fest. Cosette, Eponine, go to lunch." Eponine watched as Gavroche dragged Cosette away from them. She was still very much glaring daggers at her in a way that—and Eponine would never admit this—terrified the absolute shit out of her. It was as if she were harnessing the power of the sun in her eyes and using it to burn her into ashes.

"Come on, that girl is a loser, let's get out of here." She let Azelma take her arm and lead her towards the lunch room.

_______________________________________

"Gavroche, do we really look that much alike?"

"Don't worry about it, Cosette, it's just a weird freak of nature. Please accept my condolences that you don't look like someone much cooler."

Cosette laughed. She turned back to look at the other girl—Eponine—and caught her sneaking a curious glance at her. The girl quickly looked away.

_______________________________________

Cosette grinned wickedly. 

"Sorry girls, read 'em and weep." She laid out her winning poker hand and collected whatever bets had been placed on the table as the older girls all let out a collective groan. Cosette was in her element. Her angelic looks were what made her so good at the casino game; the first time anyone went up against her in poker, they thought they had won the lottery to go up against such a foolish looking little girl. That is, until Cosette would smile like the devil and reveal the winning hand, effectively robbing the opposition of whatever money they had been foolish enough to wager.

Uncle Courfeyrac had taught her well.

"Is that it then? Are there no more takers?" _Excellent,_ she thought as she looked down to begin stowing away her winnings. That's when she heard it. 

"I'll take a whack at it." It was a taunt, a threat, and Cosette knew exactly who it came from. She looked up into the face of Eponine Grantaire and simply smiled sweetly. 

"Alright then. Deal the cards." When she picked up the cards, she tried her best not to smile. She placed a crisp American five dollar bill on the table. Eponine did the same. Before she had the chance to lay down her hand, however, Eponine spoke up.

"Care to raise the stakes a little? Loser has to jump into the lake." They all knew how cold the lake would become in the night. Cosette simply smiled. 

"Excellent." 

Eponine smirked and quirked her eyebrows.

"Butt-naked." She added, emphasizing every letter. Cosette's smile only grew wider.

"Even more excellent," she replied with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Then she laid down her hand. "Full house!" she declared, mouth curling up deviously. Eponine looked at her with mock surprise.

"You're good," she stated in fake awe. "But," she continued. Cosette's smile faltered a little. "Not good enough." Eponine smiled in fake sweetness. "For your honour, a royal flush!"

Cosette's eyes went wide. There was no possible way… 

"Start unzipping your highness." Eponine's voice was taunting. She glared at her.

_______________________________________

_The water must be freezing,_ Cosette thought miserably. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Eponine and her friend watching her and stifling their laughs. She glared at them full force.

_You are an Enjolras damnit! You do not back down from these challenges!_

Bravely, Cosette shrugged off her towel and, with a pointed look at Eponine, jumped into the lake. 

All at once, the cold nature of the water hit her at full force. She gasped and swam up towards the surface, knowing that she needed to dry herself off and put on warm clothes as soon as she could in order to avoid catching a cold. She could almost hear her Uncle ‘Ferre's chiding voice in the back of her mind, and she smiled at the thought.

When she climbed on to dry land, there was no sign of any of her clothes anywhere, just her little towel. That's when she realized exactly what happened. Wrapping herself up in her towel, Cosette let out a few choice words she knew her Papa would not approve of and her Uncle Courfeyrac would give her a high five for. 

"Alright, let the games begin."

_______________________________________

"Did you hear her? I swear that girl was sneezing all the way across the mess hall this morning.” Eponine couldn’t contain her laughter. She and Azelma were making their way back to their cabin where they could rest after a tiring day of hiking. She yawned and added: “I can’t wait to get back in bed.”

In her haste to get back to the cabin she barely noticed that Azelma had stopped walking beside her. When she glanced to the side, the other girl wasn’t there. Eponine turned around to see Azelma staring at something above her head with wide eyes. 

“Azelma? What’s wrong? What are you looking at?”

“I hope you’re not too tired,” she started, still staring above her, “because sleeping in your bed doesn’t really seem like a possibility right now.” 

Confused, she walked back to Azelma. “Why not?”

The other girl physically turned her around and pointed to the roof of their cabin. “That’s why not.” On top of the cabin roof was Eponine and Azelma’s beds, a British flag tied to the pole of Eponine’s frame. Her expression of disbelief quickly gave way to a dark scowl.

“So that’s how she wants to play it huh? Fine. She won’t know what hit her.” 

_______________________________________

In the dark of the night, Eponine and Azelma quietly stole their way into Cosette and Gavroche’s cabin. Eponine would not be one-upped so easily; she wasn’t Rene Grantaire’s daughter for nothing. She remembered making these sorts of traps with her Dad’s friend Bahorel, and so, with the help of Azelma, laid out the most wicked trap possible. They sneaked back out the cabin, muffling their giggles. 

“Now,” Eponine said with a sparkle in her eyes, “we wait until morning.”

_______________________________________

Cosette opened her eyes as the soft morning light streamed in through her window. She let out a little yawn and cringed at the sound of the bugle music (if you could call it that) being played outside. 

“Someone should really teach that boy how to play that instrument without making people’s ears bleed,” she muttered to herself. She sat up in her bed. 

That’s when it all went to hell. 

As she sat up, a bucket of cold ice water poured itself all over her head. Cosette screamed, which alerted Gavroche, who jumped out to help Cosette fight off whichever perpetrator seemed to be attacking her. This set off a maze of wires that pulled a million different traps that finally ended in Cosette dripping with shaving cream and Gavroche coated with honey. Cosette had had enough. She screamed at the top of her lungs.

“THAT GIRL IS WITHOUT A DOUBT THE LOWEST, MOST AWFUL CREATURE TO HAVE EVER WALKED THE PLANET!”

_______________________________________

Outside the cabin, Eponine and Azelma roared with laughter. She couldn’t believe herself, the trap actually worked! 

_Look at Ms. Perfect now,_ she thought, _all red throwing a hissy fit!_

Azelma clapped for her and she bowed dramatically. 

“Thank you, thank you!” she exclaimed in her best fake-British accent. From behind her, the familiar camp counselor, Madame Baptistine Sr. and her daughter Madame Baptistine Jr. walked by with a clipboard and megaphone respectively. 

“Morning girls!” she called out. 

“Morning Baptistines,” they replied. That’s when the reality of the situation hit them. The two girls looked at each other in terror. “Baptistines?!” 

The camp counselors stopped outside the doors of Cosette’s cabin and the latter held up her megaphone. “Surprise cabin inspection!” she called out. No! She couldn’t go in there! Eponine would be dead before breakfast, and she hadn’t even had time to try the supposedly-fresh strawberries everyone had been raving about for days! Before either of the counselors could step inside, Eponine threw herself in front of the door.

“No! You can’t go in there!” Madame Baptistine Sr. looked at her in confusion. _Quick! Think of something!_ “One of the campers inside got really sick in there and it is a _mess,”_ she hastily invented. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Cosette approach the window in curiosity. Madame Baptistine Sr. for the most part just looked even more alarmed.

“Oh well dear if someone is sick then I really must go in.” She tried to make her way past Eponine only to be blocked by the dark haired girl again. Subtly, Eponine’s eyes flickered uneasily to where a large bucket of chocolate sauce was hanging, ready to pour itself onto the next person to open the cabin door. 

“No, really, I insist. Save yourself the aggravation and let go of the door.” It seemed Cosette had caught onto the situation, because she narrowed her eyes at the girl and spoke through the window. 

“Actually, we’re all quite fine in here,” she stated sweetly, “unless,” she looked pointedly at Eponine, “Eponine Grantaire knows something we don’t. Open the door and come on in ma’am.” 

_NO!_

Madame Baptistine Sr. pushed her way past Eponine and opened the door, which tugged on the strings of the bucket, and ended up dousing herself in chocolate sauce. She screamed, which attracted the attention of Madame Baptistine Jr. who, upon seeing the state of her mom, pushed her way into the cabin, slipping on the honey and falling backwards onto the floor, effectively covering her hair and backside in the viscous substance. 

It was chaos everywhere. It seemed as if there were still a few traps that had not been pulled, and after about five minutes of good screaming and utter pandemonium, Eponine finally spoke up. 

“I told you it was a mess in here,” she said with a grimace. Cosette’s face contorted in anger.

“She should know, she started it!” she exclaimed, gesturing to Eponine.

Madame Baptistine Sr, who by this point was covered in chicken feathers, pointed at Eponine.

“You!” she screeched. Then she turned her finger towards Cosette, whose jaw dropped, “And you! Pack your bags!”

_______________________________________

The camp counselors had forced everyone to march alongside Eponine and Cosette just so they could display their shame. On the way there, it seemed as if Azelma and Gavroche had hit it off, and two had abandoned each other’s respective friends for each other.

 _So much for loyalty in friendship,_ Eponine thought miserably. When they finally stopped, she could make out the shape of a cabin high enough above the ground that it was shrouded with fog. 

“Okay, the rest of you girls can go back to your activities,” Madame Baptistine Sr. announced. With a cry of excitement, the rest of the crowd turned around to head back to whatever fun was presumably planned for the day. Then the two Baptistines turned towards her and Cosette. “You two: the isolation cabin.” Madame Baptistine Jr. pointed up to the cabin in the fog, and inwardly, Eponine let out a groan. There were still six weeks left at camp,and she was being forced to share it with _that girl!_ She couldn’t believe her luck. Maybe some of Bossuet’s bad luck had ended up rubbing off on her when she had hugged him before leaving for camp. She looked back at Cosette who had a stormy expression on her face. 

_Okay Ep, you’ve got this,_ she thought to herself. _Just six weeks and then you're free._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's another chapter! Stick around for next week, where we'll be uncovering some secrets. Thanks for reading!
> 
> -A


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes stumble upon the biggest revelation of their lives. A plot is hatched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my dear readers,
> 
> We finally reach the chapter where the whole secret comes spilling out! I honestly love the picture reveal scene in the movie so much, so writing this chapter was super fun. Quick note: the calculation for the distance between London and Camp Walden was done by me literally just searching up how far London is from Boston. I picked Boston because it's all the way across from California like Eponine described, and yes I know a summer camp would not be located in a city, but I simply went with it because the answer would be easiest to find on the internet and it fits the bill for being across the country. So, if the number should be different or is slightly off, then I apologize. Otherwise, happy reading!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All the characters belong to Les Miserables, and the dialogue and plot belongs to The Parent Trap.
> 
> -A

The past two weeks have not been easy for Cosette. The blonde liked to think of herself as a calm and patient person, a bit of a toned-down version of her Papa, but the stress of the last few days have been taking a toll on her nerves. Eponine was still as annoying as ever. She chewed her gum as loudly as possible, provoked Cosette on purpose with her baseless arguments, and kept shutting off the lights when she was trying to read. Cosette didn’t think they would ever get along with each other, but now that they were bunking together the two were forced to cooperate to get things done. They shared every meal together, were confined to mind-numbingly boring activities inside the cabin that were a lot more fun when done together, and had only each other to talk to for company. As such, it was quite impossible for friendship not to brew in such circumstances. One thing that Cosette still could not get past, however, was just how much the other girl looked like her own self, and now that she could see her face up close a lot more clearly, her stomach would flutter. She tried not to dwell on it too much. The other girl probably didn’t even see it.

(Eponine did. She went to sleep every night thinking about it.)

_______________________________________

Over the next few days, it seemed whatever anger the two girls had was slowly starting to die down. They began to act a lot more civil with each other, even exchanging warm, albeit at first hesitant, good mornings and good nights. 

Huh. Perhaps this whole isolation cabin concept was working after all.

_______________________________________

A fierce storm was coming down around the campground. The sky thundered and rain pelted the ground like bullets. Wind rattled the walls of the cabins. Cosette watched the sky with unease, her silent game of solitaire abandoned. They were fairly high off of the ground. Nothing would happen to them, right? 

On the bed across the room, Eponine was pinning up various postcards and posters to the wall. As she surveyed their surroundings, Eponine’s stack of posters and postcards went flying around the entire cabin. She cried out, trying to salvage what she could as Cosette jumped off her bed and tried to close the window.

“Oh no, it’s stuck!” she called out. At once, Eponine was by her side, and together, they managed to slam the window shut.

“Thanks,” Eponine said, shooting her a grateful smile. Cosette smiled back, picking up the stuffed animal she did not fail to notice Eponine slept with all night and handed it back to her.

“No problem,” she replied softly. “Any of your posters ruined?” Eponine looked down at the soaking wet sheet of paper she was clutching and sighed. 

“Only the beautiful Aaron Tveit.” Cosette looked at the poster with wide eyes. 

“Oh my gosh I love Aaron Tveit!” Well actually that was an understatement. Cosette practically worshipped the ground he walked on. It was her dream to become a Broadway actress, and for her, he was the penultimate model of what an actor should be like. Eponine grinned at her. 

“Seems like we finally agree on something.” 

“Yeah.” They lapsed back into silence, until Eponine decided to brave the unknown and speak up again. 

“So how far is London from here anyways?” Cosette looked out the window and sighed a little to herself. Now was not the time to be getting homesick. 

“Well it’s 3269 miles from here but sometimes it seems so much further.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw Eponine’s face soften. She realized she must look a little sad, so she took a deep breath and smiled brightly at the girl sitting in the opposite bed in front of her. “What about you,” she started, “how far away is your home?” 

“Oh, California’s all the way at the other end of the country. Actually—” Eponine cut herself off to rummage through her duffel. She came and sat next to Cosette who made room for her on her bed. “—here’s a picture of our house.” The picture showed off a beautifully large house. In front of the house stood a man with his back to the camera. 

“Oh it’s beautiful,” she breathed out. Eponine smiled at her. 

“It is, isn’t it? We built it when I was little. We’ve got this incredible porch that looks over the entire vineyard… oh I haven’t told you but my Dad owns this amazing vineyard. He’s kind of like, famous in the wine world I guess. He’s a total connoisseur of fine wine. It’s great… but anyways like I was saying…” She trailed off as she noticed Cosette staring at the photo and not really paying attention. “What are you looking at?”

“Who's that?” Cosette pointed to the man in the picture. Eponine laughed. 

“Oh that’s my Dad, he kind of didn’t know I was taking the picture.” Cosette saw Eponine smile a little to herself and felt the same emotion of happiness reflect onto herself. “He’s kind of my best friend, we do everything together,” she continued. Cosette felt her happiness dwindle a little and her smile turned just the slightest bit sad. Partly because she missed her Papa dearly, but mostly for another reason altogether. As she listened to Eponine talk about her Dad so happily, she couldn’t help but think of her other father, the one who left when she was only a baby. She didn’t resent the man her Papa was once married to, but sometimes she felt her heart pang as she missed a man she barely even knew, leaving her with only the memory of a soft laugh and a warm embrace. Subconsciously, she rubbed at her arms. Eponine caught onto her sudden silence; she frowned.

“What’s wrong?” her eyes knit together in genuine concern. Cosette shook her head.

“Nothing. It’s just a bit chilly is all.” Eponine studied her face a bit more, then suddenly leaped off the bed. She dug around her bag, exclaiming when she successfully protruded a blue package. She turned back around towards Cosette. 

“Want one?” she offered the package of Oreos towards Cosette, who smiled and graciously accepted. 

“Sure. I love Oreos. At home I eat them with peanut butter.” She smiled thinking back to a memory of her eating the aforementioned pair of food in front of a very disgusted Uncle 'Ferre and a hysterical Uncle Courf. 

“You do? That’s so weird, so do I!” The girl turned back around and dug through her duffel again, this time emerging with a plastic knife and a jar of peanut butter. She climbed back into bed and took her previous place beside Cosette, who, for the most part, simply looked amazed.

“You’re kidding! Most people find that totally disgusting.”

“I know!”

“I don’t get it.”

“Me neither.” They both took their time slathering their cookies with the spread. “So what’s your dad like? Is he one of those workaholic types that says _I’ll talk to you later honey_ but then never actually does? ‘Cause those are the worst types of dad’s in my opinion.” Cosette smiled when she thought about her Papa.

“Papa is… perfect. He’s been my everything since forever. He’s a divorcee, so he’s kind of protective over me but it’s only because he loves me. He’s the exact opposite of a workaholic father, actually. Like, I know how much he loves his job, but he’s always ready to drop everything if I need him to. He’s been to every one of my silly little recitals and school plays and…” the more she thought about it, the more Cosette had realized just how hard her Papa had been trying to fulfill the role of two dads in one, trying to make sure she didn’t feel the absence of her unnamed father. She smiled at that. “He’s a renowned human rights lawyer in London, and owns a law firm with my Uncle too.” Eponine was looking at her a bit strangely. “What?” she asked nervously. 

“Your dad’s divorced too?” 

“Yeah…” Eponine continued to stare.

“So is mine.” 

“Oh. Looks like we’ve got that in common.” 

“Yeah,” Eponine said this more to herself. “So do you know anything about your mom then? Like I mean, does he ever talk about her?” At this, Cosette frowned. 

“Whoever said I had a mom? Don’t assume heteronormativity,” she chided. Eponine looked up at her sheepishly. 

“Sorry. Actually, I’m the last person who should be saying something like that; my Dad never had a wife either. He doesn’t ever talk about my other dad though. It’s like he evaporated into thin air or something. Scary how no one ever stays together anymore.” Cosette rolled her eyes.

“Tell me about it.” They both trailed off into silence before Eponine piped up again, this time a little more hesitant. 

“But… but if you never had a mom… then how did your dad have you? Are you adopted…?” Cosette thought about this a little. She had asked her Uncle ‘Ferre this question and he had made sure that she understood the concept well enough, but there were still some parts she didn’t quite grasp. 

“Well,” she started slowly, trying to remember what exactly her Uncle ‘Ferre told her, “I was a surrogacy baby. My Papa gave something of his—sperm?—to this woman at the clinic, and then she carried me for him and his husband, and then later gave birth to me for him.” Eponine’s staring was getting just the slightest bit creepy now. At first she thought she was gonna make some sort of judgement, and just as she was about to open her mouth to defend herself, Eponine spoke up.

“I’m a surrogacy baby too.” This time it was Cosette’s turn to stare. Could it be… no. The odds were impossible. Cosette could almost hear her Uncle 'Ferre tell her that the odds were impossible. No. This was merely a coincidence. Besides, it’s not as if this sort of thing was rare; hundreds of babies were born through surrogacy everyday. The air was heavy with awkwardness. Eponine cleared her throat and tried to appear nonchalant. 

“So how old are you anyways?” Cosette let out a breath of relief for the simple conversation. 

“Well I’m eleven right now but I’ll be twelve on October 11th." She added the last part with a bit of indignation. Cosette hated being referred to as a child. In a few months she would be twelve, which meant she was only a year away from officially being a teenager. When she looked at Eponine, she saw that the girl's jaw dropped.

"Are you joking?" She half whispered. 

"What? No." Why would she ever joke about something like that?

"Cosette," Eponine continued to whisper, "I'm also turning twelve on October 11th." 

_Oh my God._

"Okay." Letting out a shaky breath, Cosette turned to face Eponine. "Okay. God this is weird. Eponine, what else do you know about your other father?" 

"Well I already told you I don't know much, but I do know that he was really beautiful." All of this was said rather in a rush.

"How do you know that?" 

"My Dad had this old picture that I would look at all the time, so he let me keep it." Eponine's eyes were going wider by the second, and Cosette was sure her's were too. 

“Oh my God. Okay. This is so weird.” Running her hands through her blonde hair, Cosette got off her bed and began to pace the floor of their cabin. 

“What’s weird?” Eponine asked this in the faintest whisper. Cosette looked back at her like she was crazy.

“Don’t you see what’s happening?” she exclaimed, gesticulating wildly with her hands. “Think about it! We’re both born on the same day. Apart from our hair colour, we look totally alike. You only have one dad and I only have one dad. Both of our parents are divorcees, and we both only have a picture of them! At least yours is probably a nice picture though, mines’ this crappy, crinkled up picture ripped right down the middle… what are you digging through your duffel for?” Eponine had leapt off the bed and was rummaging through her bag frantically. After a few seconds, it seemed she had finally found what she was looking for. When the raven-haired girl turned around, Cosette could glimpse a piece of paper clutched tightly between her hands held close to her chest. 

“This,” she whispered. “It’s the picture I have of my other dad. It’s ripped right—”

“—Down the middle," Cosette finished breathlessly. Eponine’s face was deathly pale. Sucking in a sharp breath, Cosette nodded her head. _Okay,_ she thought. _Okay okay okay what if?_ Turning around, the blonde shuffled her belongings aside and reached for the picture of the father she never knew. She walked back towards Eponine, holding the photo to her chest much like the other girl did. “I found this photo in my Papa's drawer and stole it. This is so freaky.” 

“Cosette we have to show each other the photos,” The girl’s voice was shaking. Cosette closed her eyes and nodded her head. Inside of her chest, her heart was hammering. 

_What if?_

“Okay, on the count of three we show each other the photos.” Eponine nodded her head quickly and swallowed nervously. Cosette’s heart was going 100 miles per hour.

“One.”

 _Ba-bum_.

“Two.”

 _Ba-bum_.

“Three!”

The two girls revealed the photos to each other. They fit perfectly into each other, when the torn line was ignored. In the image sat two men, one blond haired and blue eyed, and the other black haired and green eyed, looking at each other, faces full of love. The men sat at a round white dinner table, their meals forgotten. Behind them was a lifesaver crested with the words _Queen Elizabeth Two Southampton._ Both of their eyes widened, and for a minute, neither of the girls said anything, allowing the silence to consume the air around them, punctuated only by their rapid breathing. Then, when the silence became unbearable, Eponine finally spoke up.

“That’s my Dad,” Eponine exhaled.

“That’s my Papa,” Cosette remarked. 

The pair fell silent again, lost in their own thoughts, until they looked at each other again. That's when they burst out laughing, and Cosette found that once she had started, she couldn't stop. It was so unbelievable that it was hilarious.

"Wait, wait," Eponine started, trying to catch her breath, "so if your Papa is my Papa and my Dad is your Dad—"

"—And we were both born on October 11th—"

"—then that makes us, like, sisters!" 

"Sisters?" Cosette was laughing again. "Eponine that makes us twins!" Just as she thought she was about to start laughing again, Cosette burst into tears and across from her, Eponine did the same. Trying to ignore how much she was shaking, the blonde threw her arms around the other girl, who promptly did the same. For a few minutes, the two simply held onto each other as they continued to cry. Somewhere deep inside Cosette felt as if she had found what had made her incomplete for so long. 

_She had a twin sister!_

Pulling away, Cosette wiped the tears off of her face and looked at Eponine and gave her a shaky smile. 

'"I don't know how to tell you this," Eponine began, "but I've missed you so much. I always knew there was something missing in my life. I just didn't know it was a twin!" Cosette laughed and hugged her again, holding her close.

"I know. I can't believe this is actually real." She felt Eponine pull away and grab at her locket. 

"What's this?" She asked curiously. Cosette toyed with the locket.

"It's a necklace. See it has the letter _C_ for Cosette on it." As she smiled once more at her, Eponine pulled something out from underneath her shirt. 

"I have the same necklace, except mine has an _E_ on it."

"Well I have goosebumps now!" The twins both laughed.

"I know this is just so… I have a twin! I'm not an only child! There are two of me… I mean of us and…. oh my God!" Eponine looked so excited, Cosette felt the emotion reflect onto herself. 

_I have a twin!_

_______________________________________

The next few hours were spent in a blur. Eponine and Cosette asked each other question after question about everything they could think of. Their passions, their schools, their friends, their _parents._ Above them, pinned to the windowsill hung the taped up picture of their parents together.

"I've never really had any friends," Eponine admitted a bit embarrassed. She felt her face flush as she continued to speak. "No one's really understood me or liked me enough." In Eponine's opinion, that was fine by her. Dad always had her back; she could talk to him about anything. And for Eponine that was enough. But as she has listened to Cosette talk about her Papa earlier, she couldn't help but feel a yearning for the father she never saw. In the photo she had of him, his smile was brilliant and dazzling, and Eponine could only imagine him giving her the same smile. A hand brushing against her's jerked her out of her thoughts. She looked up into Cosette—her _sister's_ —kind eyes and smiled as she felt the blonde squeeze her hand. 

"I never really had any friends either." At this revelation, Eponine's jaw dropped. Who wouldn't want to be friends with Cosette? She was a perfect, sweet little angel. Her sister saw the confusion on her face and laughed softly. "I guess I kind of scared the other kids away a little. They don't really tolerate me. It's probably because I never stop talking about what I like or don't like." At this, Eponine smiled a little. She remembered Cosette's little rant about beauty standards and could easily imagine her getting up on a table and screaming about it to the rest of the class. "But now we have each other," Cosette continued, "and I think we'd make a hell of a team." Eponine grinned.

"You bet we would." She paused for as second. "Tell me more about," she hesitated a little before smiling to herself, "about our Papa." Cosette hummed quietly. 

"Well what do you want to know? I already told you he's a human rights lawyer— and a damn good one at that. He organizes a lot of protests," the blonde's expression soured just a little, "but he never lets me come to any of them." _Protests huh? I guess there's no wondering where 'Sette gets her outspoken nature from then._ "Oh! He's also gonna be featured in the _Times_ this year for all his hard work too!"

"The _Times?_ That's incredible!" 

"I know right! He totally deserves it too, he's always fighting for the rights of others, a lot of the time at his own expense." This last part was added with a sigh that made Eponine frown. 

"What do you mean?" she inquired.

"I mean that sometimes Papa gets so caught up in doing things for everyone else that he forgets to take care of himself. Usually it's Uncle 'Ferre and Uncle Courf that look after him and force him to take his anxiety medication. Or me." Cosette added the last part as an afterthought. 

"Sounds like my Dad— _our Dad—_ could have helped him. He's the best at taking care of others. Whenever I would get sick, he would always be there by my bedside taking care of me until I got better." She smiled at the memory of her Dad's kind green eyes crinkling with concern whenever she was feeling even the slightest bit ill, and the way they would brighten when she finally got better and would give him a hug. There had been another thought that had been swirling around in her head for a while, but she dared not voice it until now. She didn't want to get her hopes up and have them dashed. "You know," she began as she toyed with her necklace, "it's interesting that neither of our parents got married again." She shot Cosette an uncertain look. "Has Papa ever come close?" Her sister shook her head and snorted. 

"Never." This lifted Eponine's spirits quite considerably. "He hasn't even considered it."

"Neither has Dad." She grinned at Cosette. "You know what this means right?" 

"What?" The blonde asked this innocently, but Eponine was no fool. She knew her sister knew exactly what she was talking about, but she would be lying if she said she didn't appreciate the fact that she pretended not to know so that Eponine could voice it out herself with all the enthusiasm she had long since been holding back once she realized the truth. 

"Our parents are still in love with each other!" Her twin raised an eyebrow at her.

"Really? Then why haven't they ever attempted to see each other again in these past years?" 

The raven haired girl rolled her eyes. "Because that's how true love works! All throughout history, there have been stories of lovers who have separated because of petty quarrels, and believe me when I say that sometimes Dad can be unbelievably stubborn and annoying sometimes." Cosette laughed. 

"He can't be worse than Papa." 

"You know, I never really pegged you as a cynic of love. You seem to believe in everything."

"I'm serious when I need to be."

"Which is all the time." Her sister lightly hit her on the arm.

_"Ow!"_

_______________________________________

Night had come much too fast upon the twins who still had so much to talk about. However, the striking of 10 o'clock had Cosette, who followed a strict sleep schedule ("A performer should always be in their best shape, Eponine!"), off to bed. Eponine laid beside her in the bed the two of them had pushed together, listening to the _pitter-patter_ of the softly falling rain outside. Her mind was still swirling with thoughts when the idea hit her like a bolt of lightning. At once, she sat upright, shaking her twin awake.

" 'Sette, 'Sette, wake up! I've just had the most brilliant idea ever _you need to wake up!_ " Her sister groaned. 

"It's one in the morning Ep, what could possibly be so important that you need me to wake up at _one in the morning?"_ Bleary blue eyes looked up at her in annoyance, but nothing could shake Eponine's excitement, not when she had such an amazing idea. 

"So I was thinking, you wanna know what Dad's like right?" The blonde rolled her eyes and huffed.

"Obviously."

"Right, well I'm dying to meet Papa. So, what I'm thinking is, and I need you to not freak out okay? What I'm thinking is that we should switch places! I'll go back to London as you and you'll go back to California as me!" When she finished talking, Cosette sat upright in her bed and frowned.

"What? Ep that would never work."

"We're twins!" Eponine exclaimed.

"Ep we're totally and completely 100% different." It seemed like it would be hard to convince her sister, but Eponine was never one to back down from a challenge, especially not when the idea had gained so much traction in her head.

"So what?" she challenged. "I'll teach you to be me and you can teach me how to be you. Look, I can do you already." She cleared her throat and said in a mock British accent, "The difference between us? I have class and you don't." Grabbing her sister's hand, Eponine looked into Cosette's eyes with a quiet sort of desperation. "Please 'Sette," she begged, "I've gotta meet my Papa." Her twin stayed quiet for a moment, pondering the idea. 

"You know, the truth is if we switch, sooner or later, they'll have to switch us back. And that means that after all these years of hard separation, they'll see each other again." Cosette grinned at her. "Okay, I'll do it." Throwing her arms around her sister, Eponine squealed. 

"Thank you!"

"Thank yourself for coming up with such a brilliant plan." Eponine continued to cling tight to Cosette as she could only think of one thing.

_I'm going to meet my Papa!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter finished! I kind of got distracted, slipping in information about triumvirate dynamics, because I just really love their friendship! You'll see more interactions between those three in later chapters. Stick around for the next chapter, where our heroes (if you've noticed, then yes, I am referring to the twins Pokemon-style) will outline a detailed plan to meet their parents and get them back together. 
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> -A


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes learn more about their families and concoct a plan. Some changes are made and goodbyes are said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear readers,
> 
> This is it! Just one more chapter and then we'll actually be seeing some more characters! Quick Note: I'm aware that the way they dye Cosette's hair in this chapter isn't actually accurate and that the rules with blond hair are different, but once again, give me some creative license here guys. 
> 
> OH! And I got a beta reader! I finally let go of my insecurities enough to trust my work with my wonderful best friend, E!
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All the characters belong to Les Miserables, and the dialogue and plot belongs to The Parent Trap.
> 
> -A

The next few weeks were spent learning how to be each twin respectively. Countless mannerisms had to be adopted and forced into habit, accents had to be practiced, and family and friends needed to be memorized. 

Cosette pulled out a picture she had of the entire family: in it, Eponine could spot her sister standing in front of her Papa, who was surrounded on either side by two men. Beside her sat an old man with a kind expression on his face.

"Okay," Cosette directed the word towards Eponine, who was staring at the picture with rapt attention. "This," she said, pointing to the brunet man in round glasses standing to the left of her Papa, "is Uncle 'Ferre. It's actually Uncle Combeferre, but I never call him that so you can't either. He's the smartest person I know and he notices everything, so you need to be especially careful of him. He's a doctor and is married to Uncle Courf, which is that guy." This time, her sister pointed to the man on the right of her Papa, a man with bright eyes framed by dark curls and a radiant smile. "Uncle Courf is super bright and enthusiastic, so just, don't be weird about it. I love him and he's an amazing person. He runs the law firm with Papa, and he's the one who knows the secret handshake that I'll have to teach you." Eponine stared at the picture and cocked her head.

"I thought Papa was an only child." Cosette looked at her, confused. 

"He is," she said slowly. This, however, did not clear Eponine's confusion, who continued to stare at Cosette. 

"But if he's an only child then why do we have two uncles?" Her sister stared at her for a moment longer until realization dawned upon her and she let out a loud _oh._

"Uncle Courf and Uncle 'Ferre aren't really our uncles," she stated with a laugh. "It's just, they're over at our house like _all the time_ and they've known Papa since forever. They're all so close knit; they may not share blood, but that doesn't make them any less than brothers." Her sister looked at the picture with a fond smile. "Uncle 'Ferre and Uncle Courf have always been there for Papa. He's the youngest out of the three of them—he's four years younger than the other two—and they've always looked after him like they were his older brothers. They've stuck with him through his highs and lows, and they were always the ones making sure Papa gets taken care of too." Cosette paused. "They're more like honorary uncles I guess." The statement made Eponine smile and flashback to memories of Bahorel, who not only lived with her and Dad, but basically helped raise her alongside her father. 

“Okay,” Eponine took a breath and pointed to the old man seated beside her sister in the picture, “who’s that?” 

“That’s Grandfather Valjean, and he’s the world’s greatest grandfather ever.” Cosette declared proudly. Her expression puzzling, the dark haired girl fell once more into a state of confusion. 

“If he’s your grandpa then why doesn’t he share your last name.” Eponine asked quizzically. 

“What? Oh, that’s because Papa was adopted.” The blonde winced. “Well actually, he started out by being put through the foster care system when he landed in Grandfather’s home. After a few years, Grandfather decided to adopt him, but by then he was old enough that he retained his old last name in the legal system. He wasn’t really in the greatest home situation when Grandfather took him in.” Eponine’s eyes softened at the thought. 

“Dad didn’t exactly have the best childhood either,” she explained. “Apparently his own dad was an abusive drinker or something. Dad said that he used to drink obsessively too, but he stopped when he had me, ‘cause he says he doesn’t want to subject me to the same thing. Now he only drinks at parties and occasionally at dinner, but even then he never really has more than one glass.” She said this all without any hesitation. Eponine was never ashamed of her Dad or his past, not when he did everything in his power to make his daughter feel loved and happy in life, to try and give her the childhood he missed out on. “What else do I need to know about yo—our Grandpa?” Her sister looked thoughtful.

“Not much else other than the fact that he’s quite remarkably strong and fit for his age. Oh, and he has French roots. He’s never really told us much about his own past now that I think of it.” _A grandpa with a mysterious past? My family’s even cooler than I thought!_ “What about your family? What do I need to know about them?” Leaping up and digging through her duffel, Eponine let out a little victory cry when she successfully emerged with a picture of Bahorel and their dog. 

“Well,” she shoved the picture of the burly man at her twin, “this is Bahorel. He’s not actually related to Dad or anything, but he does actually live with us. He owns a share of Dad’s wine company, and he does most of the cooking and housework. But he’s not our servant or anything,” she added hastily. “He’s just really close with Dad. They box together, and he teaches me boxing as well, which means that once every week for two hours you’re gonna be stuck with him as he tries to teach you to deliver a proper right hook.” She gave her sister a toothy grin, who looked back at her with a pale face. 

“But I don’t know anything about boxing!” her sister protested. “Besides, he looks like he could snap me in two like a twig,” the blonde added this a little mournfully. The other girl simply laughed. 

“Don’t worry, he may look like a big scary giant but he’s got a heart of gold. You’ll love him. Now see this, this is our faithful, ever on-guard dog Javert…”

The next few hours were spent memorizing floor plans and learning of the different uses of the rooms in the house (“This is the dining room but we never actually eat in here unless it’s Thanksgiving or Christmas.”) and being told about the different family traditions (“When we have family dinner, which is like, all the time, I always sit beside Uncle Courf. Not Uncle ‘Ferre, not Papa, _Uncle Courf.”_ ) Cosette had even managed to teach Eponine the secret handshake, and it only took about thirty tries for her to finally get it right. It wasn’t until later that Cosette finally voiced the question they were both thinking.

“We still have to do something about the hair situation,” she started hesitantly. “If you go back with your dark hair and I go back blonde, they’ll figure out right away that we’re not each other.” Her sister was twisting her hands, a habit Eponine notices she did whenever she was nervous. 

“You're right.” She looked on thoughtfully. “Of course, we could dye your hair dark to look like mine.” At this, her twin shrunk back a little and grasped at her golden locks protectively. 

“We don’t have any hair dye with us.” Eponine raised her eyebrows.

“You don’t,” she said pointing towards the blonde, “but I do.” With that, she jumped up and retrieved from her bag a can of black hair spray. “Blissful black! The perfect hair spray for all your hair-colouring needs!” With a dramatic flourish, she held out the can to her sister, who scrutinized the label. 

“Why do you have this if your hair is already naturally black?” she inquired, not yet looking up from the can.

“Never know what kind of a situation you’d fall into where you need black hairspray.” Cosette gave her a confused look. “Now come on, you have to put it on.” She snatched the can back from her sister who shrank even further within herself.

“But I like my blonde hair.” The girl crossed her arms in front of her. “I don’t wanna turn it black,” she said mournfully. Eponine rolled her eyes. 

“Relax ‘Sette it only stays on for 3 months. That’ll be plenty of time for us to meet our parents and get them back together. After that it washes off.” Her eyes softened when she noticed her sister’s hands were still twisting nervously. Grabbing her hands in her own, Eponine looked into Cosette’s eyes and tried her best to calm her down. “It’s not permanent ‘Sette, I promise. It’ll only be for a little while, and then you’ll have your fabulous blond hair back again.” She watched as her sister bit the inside of her cheek, close her eyes, and then let out a breath. When she opened them again, Eponine could see a new steely resolve had replaced the worry that previously filled them.

“Alright, let’s do it.”

_______________________________________

As they both stepped towards the mirror, Cosette gasped. With her blond hair dyed black, the two now looked almost completely identical.

Almost.

Cosette sucked in a breath. “This is so scary,” she told their reflections. Beside her, Eponine grinned.

“Honey, ya never looked better,” she told her in a fake New Yorker accent. Then, her twin’s eyes went wide. 

Brows furrowing, Cosette hesitantly spoke, “What’s wrong?”

“My ears are pierced,” she stated.

Rolling her eyes, Cosette let out a breath of relief. “Yeah, well so are mine. I don’t see what the problem is.” Her sister simply shook her head. 

“No, you don’t understand. I have two pairs of piercings; you only have one.” She angled her right ear towards Cosette, who could now better see a second piercing done neatly above the first. All at once, the blood drained out of her body.

“No!” she exclaimed. “No way! Not happening! Not in a million years!” Her sister threw up her hands in frustration.

“Then dying your hair was a total waste! I can’t go to camp with pierced ears and then come back home without ‘em. Get real.” They both had a silent argument with their eyes for a few moments until, finally, Cosette gave in. 

“Fine! Fine!” She buried her head in her hands. “Why is it always me?” 

_______________________________________

“You’re absolutely sure you know what you’re doing?” On their joint bed, Cosette could feel her heart racing. She wasn’t sure whether this was really sanitary, but at Eponine’s insistence, she had decided to go _what the hell_ and agree to it. 

“Relax, I’ve seen multiple videos of how to pierce ears. Just close your eyes. It’ll be over before you know it. Earrings ready?”

“Yes,” she squeaked.

“Good. I’ve got the needle sterilized… now, hand me the apple.” Obediently, Cosette passed over the aforementioned fruit. “Thank you. Just relax, this isn’t a big deal. Now, on the count of three, I need you to remove the ice, okay? One… two… three!” 

Later, Cosette tried to tell her sister that her scream wasn’t that loud. Eponine gave her an unimpressed look, but didn’t comment on it, considering that she had quietly admitted in her own head that her scream that night was probably louder.

(Now they looked completely identical!)

_______________________________________

The end of the eight weeks of camp had come much too soon. As the sun rose on the day of departure, the camp bustled with a flurry of activity as newly made friends tearily said goodbye to each other, trying to soak up every last second they could together.

However, for Cosette and Eponine, this moment was even more emotional. 

Now dressed in her sister’s punk-rock clothing, Cosette held her twin’s hands and looked into her eyes, willing herself not to cry. 

“Alright,” she began breathlessly, “this is it. Remember, you’re gonna find out how Papa and Dad met—”

“—and you’re gonna find out why they broke up.” Eponine was dressed in the light blue knee-high silken dress Cosette originally wore to camp. The two twins looked at each other before pulling each other into a tight hug. 

“We can do this,” Cosette whispered into her sister’s ear.

“We’re gonna do it ‘Sette. You’ll see. After this, our parents will remarry and then we’ll all live together as one happy family again,” her sister replied quietly. 

“Cosette Enjolras, your car is here!” Pulling away from each other, Cosette gave her sister a quick peck on the cheek. 

“That’s you cue. Here’s your ticket,” Cosette handed her a slip of paper, “Uncle Courf is picking you up at the airport tomorrow. Kiss Papa for me.

“And you kiss Dad for me.” Eponine smiled at her. 

“Cosette Enjolras front and centre!” 

“Bye.” The two pulled in for one last hug.

“Love you.”

“Last call for Cosette Enjolras!” They pulled away.

“Wish me luck,” and with that, Cosette watched as the girl who now looked completely identical to her walked away towards a car that would take her to London and far away from her reach. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's that for this week! Stay tuned for next week where we'll be shifting our focus over to London, England, home of our favourite revolutionary, Enjolras and his family. (Kind of got distracted info-dumping about the triumvirate in this chapter. Oops. We'll get to see a lot more of that in the next chapters.)
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> -A


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our hero Eponine navigates the unfamiliar roads of London, family, and friends as she attempts to uncover the secrets of her Papa's past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear readers,
> 
> We did it! We've finally reached the point in the story where our heroes meet their parents! I had so much fun writing this chapter, especially now that we've introduced more characters to the party. 
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All the characters belong to Les Miserables, and the dialogue and plot belongs to The Parent Trap.
> 
> -A

On the way to London, Eponine could not stop worrying her lip. She was flying thousands of miles away from her home in California and was finally going to meet her Papa, something she had dreamed about doing her whole life. As she watched the clouds pass her by, she couldn’t help but let her self-doubt creep in.

_What if he doesn’t like me?_

When the plane finally landed and Eponine stepped into busy and bustling Heathrow airport, Eponine felt her nerves kick into overtime.

_This is it. Oh my God this is it. God I hope he likes me._

The crowded nature of the airport had Eponine craning her neck to find the man—Uncle Courfeyrac—who her sister had said would be present to pick her up. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a head of dark curls. Pushing her way through the dense sea of people, Eponine did her best to quell her nerves and walked up to the man with a bright smile.

“Uncle Courf!” she exclaimed with her best British accent. The man jumped and looked down at her, smiling wide as he gave her a once-over with his eyes. 

“‘Sette? Is that really you?” he asked, surprised. She swallowed nervously and nodded. “Look at you! You’ve dyed your hair and gotten a second set of piercings!” 

“Do you… do you like it?” she asked hesitantly. He beamed. 

“Love it! It’s the new you! Oh just wait ‘till ‘Ferre sees you. Don’t tell him it’s you. We’ll see if he can actually recognize you by your face or if he only looks for that signature Enjolras blond hair…” As he kept talking, Eponine felt her heart grow three sizes. She liked this man— _Uncle Courf, remember that Eponine!_ —and at his words felt a bit more courageous than before. 

Eponine realized she must have zoned out at one point, because her Uncle had extended his hand and looked at her expectantly. _Oh. Okay Eponine you can do this._ She took a step back and braced herself. 

_You can do this._

_Shake with your right hand twice,_ she heard her sister say in her head. 

_Switch hands and shake twice with your left,_ she remembered. 

_Throw your hands back in surrender._

_Don't mess up. Don't mess up._

_Stack your hands one on top of another and then drop._

_Bat your hands together like your playing "lemonade." Stop in the middle on the third bat._

_Reach your right hand up and clap his._

_Meet back in the centre._

_Reach your left hand up and clap his._

_Meet back in the centre._

_Come on Eponine your halfway through, don't mess up now!_

_Reach your right hand down and clap his hand._

_Meet back in the centre._

_Reach your left hand down and clap his hand._

_Fists up and bump your left hip with his right._

_Jump back in the centre._

_Fists up, bump your right hip with his left._

_Jump back in the middle and face him. Squat and make a pouty face (seriously Cosette? Why is this a thing?)_

_Jump back up and lunge quick, slide past him._

_Firmly shake hands._

_Haha! I did it!_

She let out a breath and grinned. She didn't mess up!

“I see you’ve still got it.” Her Uncle playfully winked at her.

She followed him to the car where he continued to talk in his bubbly tone of voice. Soon enough, Eponine found herself laughing at his corny jokes and feeling better with every bit the car drove. Outside, the sights of London whizzed by her, and the girl found herself staring out in awe as they passed the Buckingham Palace. 

“What’s gotten into you?” her Uncle asked in amusement across from her where he was driving. “You're staring out the window like you’re one of those overexcited American tourists.” She turned to face him.

“I guess,” she started, “I just missed home a lot. And Papa.” She added the last part quietly. Her Uncle snorted.

“You’re not alone in the sentiment. I swear I can’t remember the last time your Papa got a proper night’s sleep in these past eight weeks.” Her Uncle’s words made her worried. She remembered her sister’s words about how their Papa didn’t always do the best job of taking care of himself. 

“Here we are,” Uncle Courf announced as he pulled the car up to a curb. In front of the car stood a beautiful house surrounded by all kinds of flowers and plants. On a pillar read the address _7 Pembroke Lane._ She was ushered through the doorway. “Go ahead and see your Grandfather first, I’ll fetch your Papa.” Mentally, Eponine pulled up the floor plan her sister had drawn when they were training to be each other, and made her way towards her Grandpa’s study. At first all she could see was a newspaper, but then the paper lowered itself onto the study table and a kind face appeared behind it. 

“Is that my little girl? That tall gangly thing with the dark hair over there?” The man smiled warmly at her, and at his words, Eponine ran across the room. 

“Grandfather,” she breathed out as she gave him a hug. He enveloped her in his warmth and held her tightly. 

“Welcome home _mon coeur._ Did you have a good time at camp?” Eponine nodded her head, not willing to take her head out of where she buried it in his jacket. “Good for—what are you doing?”

“Just smelling,” she replied, voice muffled from where it was buried. Her Grandfather laughed. 

“Smelling? And what on Earth are you doing that for?” She pulled away to smile at him.

“I’m making a memory.” He raised his eyebrows at her and widened his smile.

“Oh?”

“Yes. Years from now, when I’m all grown up, I’ll always remember my Grandfather and how he always smelled of…” she buried her head in his jacket and took a sniff, “...peppermint and newspapers!” Grandpa Valjean laughed warmly again and pulled her close again. Eponine smiled and rested her head against his heart when she heard her name —or rather her sister’s name—be called.

“Cosette?” All at once, she felt her breath leave her chest. She pulled away from her Grandfather and looked up to where she could see a shadow on the wall of the study. Her Grandpa smiled at her. 

“Go on, he’s been waiting for a long time.” With her breath slightly shaking, Eponine made her way out of the study and looked up to see her Papa—for the first time real and solid—standing on the top of the stairs in front of her. She felt exhilarated and breathless and scared and excited all at the same time. Her Papa was really there! She had dreamed of this moment for so long!

“Papa,” she whispered as he rushed down the stairs. He crouched into a kneel as Eponine flew into his outstretched arms and clung tightly to him. 

“Oh sweetheart, you’re finally back.” He returned the hug just as fiercely. Eponine felt her eyes sting with the threat to let tears fall. She had just hugged her Papa for the first time in her life, and it was better than every single fantasy she had ever had of the moment before. 

“I can’t believe it’s really you,” she said quietly. Her Papa held onto her for a moment longer before pulling away. From up close, she could see her Papa was even more beautiful than she had seen in the picture. His blue eyes, which she had obviously inherited from him, sparkled and his face seemed to be chiselled from marble. His curly blond hair, which Eponine had absolutely no doubts he passed onto Cosette, was shiny and soft, and fell a little into his eyes. She reached out and brushed it away. 

“And I can’t believe it’s you,” he mused. “With your hair dyed so dark. Who did it for you?” 

“A friend I made at camp.” She grasped at her hair and looked into his eyes nervously. “Do you hate it?” Her Papa threw back his back and let out a glorious laugh.

“No,” he replied, eyes shining with affection, “I absolutely love it. It’s quite a look.” He reached out and brushed a finger over her second piercings. “And you got another pair of piercings! Are there any other surprises I should know about? Belly button rings, tattoos… Cosette what’s wrong?” Her Papa’s eyes softened as he looked at her with concern. Eponine couldn’t help but let the first few tears fall from her eyes. He brushed it away with his thumb.

“I’m sorry, I’ve just missed you so much.” Her Papa drew her back into his embrace. 

“So did I ‘Sette. These past eight weeks haven’t been easy. It seems like it’s been forever.” Eponine smiled into his shoulder and mumbled a soft _you have no idea._ Then she remembered what her sister and Uncle told her and she pulled away. Upon closer inspection, she could see the dark shadows that hung beneath his eyes; she reached out to trace them. Her Papa smiled faintly at her. “What is it?” 

“How much sleep have you been getting?” she demanded. The man raised his eyebrows at her, and as he opened his mouth to speak, Eponine heard a voice from behind her. 

“Clearly not enough, if his appearance has anything to say about it.” She whirled around to see a tall man in round glasses walk towards them. _Uncle ‘Ferre,_ she remembered from what Cosette had told her. The man grinned at her and leaned down to give her a hug. Eponine reached up and threw her arms around his neck. 

“Uncle ‘Ferre!” 

“Hey Cosette. Nice job with the hair.” Eponine laughed. 

“You recognized me!” Her Uncle rolled his eyes at her. 

“Of course I did,” he said, amused. “Contrary to what your Uncle Courf thinks I do actually know what your face looks like.” He peered at her for a moment. “You pierced your ears again. How?” She looked away sheepishly.

“A girl at camp did it for me,” she lied. Her Uncle’s eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“That can’t be very sanitary. Are you sure you’re alright?” He leaned down and placed the back of his hand on her forehead, “Have you been feeling ill at all?” Eponine rolled her eyes. 

“I’m fine Uncle ‘Ferre, really,” she gave this reply flatly, but secretly she felt delighted with his concern. Her Papa spoke up again. 

“‘Ferre it’s fine, not everything warrants a medical emergency.” Uncle ‘Ferre let his eyes linger on her face for a second more before he averted his gaze to look at her Papa, who had gotten off the ground and was holding her by the shoulders. The bespectacled man reached out for her hand and drew her to his side. 

“You're right,” her Uncle started, “perhaps her piercings don't warrant a medical emergency. But I’m quite sure the current state of your health does. Go ahead Enjolras, tell ‘Sette how much sleep you’ve gotten in these past eight weeks.” It seemed as if there was something suddenly very interesting about the floor judging by the way her Papa wouldn’t look away from it. Eponine crossed her arms. 

“Papa when’s the last time you got a proper night’s sleep?”

“Or how about when’s the last time you had a proper meal? Or took your anxiety medication?” her Uncle challenged. Her Papa looked weakly from her to her Uncle.

“You can’t just gang up on me like that,” he protested without much resolve. Eponine softened her steely look. 

“Papa why haven’t you been taking care of yourself?” He gave her a tired smile.

"I've been quite busy with work, Cosette."

"That is a lie!" a familiar voice called from the doorway to the kitchen.

Papa sighed. "Courf don't start," he pleaded, rolling his eyes.

"I'm afraid," came her Uncle Courfeyrac's voice as he walked to stand beside her Papa, "that's just the slightest bit your fault kiddo. Worried sick out of his mind these past weeks you've been at camp for. Hardly got a wink of sleep or a bite of food did your Papa." 

"I got some sleep," he tried to argue, "and peanut butter and jelly counts as food Courf!" On one hand, Eponine felt touched at how much her Papa cared for her, or rather for her sister. On the other hand, eight weeks without proper sleep or eating habits was quite alarming. Eponine looked up at her Papa sadly. The situation was even worse than she thought. She was gonna have to have a talk with him about his health. And with her sister to see what she did to make sure the man didn't run himself into the ground.

"Although, this is hardly any new information, is it? I don't think your Papa ever gets enough sleep." Her Uncle Courf winked at her as he ruffled the shorter man's hair. The blond glared at him and ran a hand through his now-mussed curls. "Oh and by the way, I've found a stowaway in your bag." From behind him, Uncle Courf produced Eponine's stuffed bear that she didn't even think to hide. 

"Oh my God," she whispered to herself, "Lamarque." Her Papa quirked an eyebrow at her. 

"Lamarque?" he questioned. 

"He belongs to the friend I told you about, the one that did my hair. I can't imagine how this ended up here," she invented quickly. 

Courfeyrac dangled the stuffed toy in his hands. "Well since he's not ours, should we get rid of—"

"NO!" Everyone turned to look at Eponine, who was cursing herself for her little outburst. She cleared her throat and better composed herself, but before she had the chance to speak, her Papa beat her to it. 

"Courfeyrac you can't just throw away a child's stuffed toy. It could have sentimental value," he said frowning.

"Yeah," her Uncle 'Ferre began, "do you have any idea the possible trauma a child could go through if they were to have their most prized possession thrown away—"

"Okay, okay," Uncle Courf threw his hands up in surrender, "don't bust a vessel Combeferre. What would you have me do? Mail it to them?"

"Actually," everyone's eyes turned to Eponine once more as she piped up, "I could do just that. She gave me her address before leaving." 

The atmosphere fell into a comfortable silence until Eponine felt her stomach rumble.

"Well," Eponine said, "I'm kind of hungry and would like some food. Something," she shot a pointed look at her Papa, "that isn't peanut butter and jelly. And I think now that I'm here, we should all have dinner together."

Uncle 'Ferre gave her a grateful smile as she grabbed her Papa's hand and marched him into the dining room.

_______________________________________

The next morning, Eponine woke up to see her Papa rushing to get dressed to go to work. 

"Papa?" He turned around to see her still in her pajamas as he shoveled the barest morsel of milk and cereal down his throat. "Where are you going?" 

"I've gotta run to the firm for a little while 'Sette, and then head down to Jehan's studio for a little something. I won't be gone for too long."

"But it's a Saturday," she said, puzzled. Did the weekend work differently in Britain? He gave her a tired smile.

"I know, but there's just a bit of work I need to manage at the firm, and then of course Jehan's been pestering me for days to come help them finish that project they've been working on for the organization. I'll be back soon, I promise." Eponine had a better idea.

"Can I… can I come with you?" The question was posed with much hesitance. For the most part, Papa simply looked confused.

"If you would like to, then yes of course you can. I just didn't think you would be interested." 

"I would love to come," she replied softly, subtly pouring in some more milk and cereal into his bowl. A smile bloomed on his face and his blue eyes sparkled. 

"Great. Go get dressed. I'll make you something to eat." 

_______________________________________

The trip to the firm hadn't been too eventful apart from the fact that Eponine got to talk to her Papa about anything and everything. She held his hand as they walked down the street, Eponine chattering about her days at camp, and listening as her Papa talked about his newest cases at the firm. 

Who was Eponine kidding? 

That in itself was extremely exciting.

When her Papa talked about his work, he came alive. His voice was passionate and his eyes shone as he talked about fighting for justice for the downtrodden, gesturing wildly with his free hand and speaking with all the fervour of a revolutionary.

_Well I guess it's no secret where Cosette learned her little beauty rant from._

When they arrived at the firm, Eponine took a good look at her surroundings. The building was closed on weekends, so it was only her and Papa inside the quiet place, but Eponine thought it only made the firm look even more powerful. They stepped into a room guarded by a heavy door. The emblazoned plaque read _Julien Enjolras: Attorney at Law._ A few feet away stood a door with the same plaque and title, except the name was that of her Uncle Courfeyrac's. Her Papa worked for a bit as she explored his office. He let her rifle through his drawers and cabinets while he sat at his table, hunched over a stack of papers. Eponine was quite content with this arrangement, and she quietly hummed a little song until she found something that made her breath stutter. 

"Papa," she called from where she was sitting, "what's this?" In between two of her fingers she held a golden ring. The inside was engraved with the words _mon Ange._ Her Papa took a second to look up from what he was doing to see what she was holding. Once he caught sight of the ring he stared for a moment. Then he got up from his chair and walked to sit beside her. He gently took the ring from her hands and held it in his own.

"This is my wedding ring," he said softly. 

_I knew it._

He took a few seconds before speaking again. "Your Dad had it specially engraved for me." Eponine's heart jolted. That was the first time she had heard him talk about her Dad. She watched as her Papa toyed a little with the ring, gazing at it wistfully. "Of course," he started abruptly again, breaking out of his trance, "I don't have much use for this now anymore," and with that he closed his fist around the piece of gold and stood back up to walk away. In her heart, Eponine felt a little pang, and before she knew what she was doing, she stood up and reached out to stop her Papa. 

"Wait! Do you…" she bit at her lip nervously before she continued on, "do you think I could keep it?" She looked up at her Papa's eyes hopefully. He stared at her. "It's just, it's a really pretty ring," she added quickly, hoping to ease some of the awkwardness of the situation. Her Papa's eyes softened. 

"Yes, of course you can have it sweetheart." He hesitated for a moment, then handed the ring back to Eponine, who held it close to her heart. "It's not like I need it around anymore," he added quietly.

_Then why have you kept it for so many years?_

_______________________________________

Eponine was quite curious to see who this Jehan was that they were going to meet. She had heard quite a bit about the project they were working on from Papa, and while Eponine desperately wanted to learn more about this Jehan, it was clear from the way her Papa talked Cosette already knew them, so it would be quite odd to her Papa if his daughter had all of a sudden forgotten someone she had known for so long. Although, Eponine thought, something struck a bell at the name. She thought she remembered it from somewhere, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

The pair walked over to a rather bright building and walked through the doors. The interior of the building was absolutely beautiful. The furniture was sleek and tidy and the walls were painted in beautiful colours. All around the room were pots of plants. Her father led her further through the establishment. 

"Jehan!" He called out. "Jehan where are you?" From a separate room emerged a bright figure. Their orange hair was braided down their side and they wore a floral shirt with jeans. Their face was really quite pretty. And familiar. Eponine couldn't quite remember from where, but she felt she had seen the person somewhere before.

"Enjolras? Finally! Took you long enough to get here." Jehan stopped in front of Eponine. "Hey 'Sette," they greeted. "Wicked hair." 

"Thanks," she stammered. They turned back to her Papa and started talking about some activist project they were working on and needed Papa's help to put together. They led the pair upstairs to a room beside a studio. The card on the desk read _Jehan Prouvaire: Editor In Chief_. That's when Eponine finally realized where she recognized the figure from. 

"You're Jehan Prouvaire," she blurted out, "creator of _Fashion for All_ Magazine!" Jehan raised their eyebrows at her and looked at her with amusement in their eyes. 

"Yes Cosette, I am, and I have been since about the time you were born." 

_Oh no!_

It only now occurred to Eponine that this sort of information was not new to Cosette, who she was supposed to be. 

_Damn it!_

"Sorry," she said sheepishly. Jehan fixed their eyes on her and smiled. 

"It's okay," they replied kindly. "No harm done for a bit of temporary memory loss." Eponine smiled gratefully at them. She turned to look at her Papa, who was watching her with a look of concern. 

"Cosette are you alright?" he inquired softly. 

"I'm fine. I guess I'm still just a little disoriented from yesterday's journey," she lied quickly. 

"If you don't feel very well, we can always go back home—"

"No," Eponine stated firmly. She was determined to enjoy this day out with her Papa. "I'm fine, Papa, really." He watched her for a moment longer before he turned back around to Jehan to continue discussing what they were previously talking about. 

"So I've gathered all the photos, but I'm still stuck on how to arrange them. I want something bold, you know, something that will really say 'The LGBTQ+ Community will not be ignored. We're here and we deserve the right to love too.' " 

"What about a collage?" 

"I've thought about that but I have way too many photos for that. Remember, I started this project twelve years ago; at this point I have hundreds of pictures. Besides, collages are overdone." 

"I don't know Jehan. You know I've never really had an eye for art." Jehan winked at the blond. 

"Yeah, but I thought that as a man with a love story as interesting as your own, you could give me a few pointers about the subject." Her Papa's face flushed a deep crimson. 

_This is it! He's gonna talk about Dad!_

Eponine curiously observed the way her Papa reacted to what Jehan had just said; he tore his gaze away and fell silent. In front of him, Jehan's eyes turned sympathetic as they reached their hand out to gently squeeze her Papa's.

"I'm sorry, Enjolras," they said. "I shouldn't have brought that up." Her Papa looked back at them and gave them a pained smile.

"It's alright. It doesn't really bother me, honestly." Jehan gave him a suspicious look that showed he clearly thought otherwise for a moment before deciding to drop it. 

"Okay. Then what are we going to do?" Her Papa shrugged. 

"I don't know. Maybe you could try asking Feuilly?"

Eponine tried not to be too disappointed with her Papa's response. _It's alright,_ she told herself, _it's only the second day. There's still plenty of time to learn about Papa and Dad's past._ The two adults lapsed into silence as they tried to think of a solution to the problem. That was when the idea popped into Eponine's head. 

"Did you say you had hundreds of pictures?" she asked. Jehan looked at her, a little bewildered at being pulled out of their thoughts.

"Yes, I did say that." 

"Well what if you tried to put it altogether into a big mural? And maybe if you have enough of one colour of pictures, you could use it to spell out a message of some sort, like 'love is love' or something."

Jehan looked thoughtful. "You know, that might just work," they mused quietly under their breath. "Actually," their eyes went wide and they jumped up from their seat. "It's perfect! Oh I've just had the most brilliant idea." They leaned forward and kissed Eponine on the forehead. "Cosette you are a genius! Yes! I've got it!" 

As they walked out the building, being ushered out by a very-excited Jehan who claimed they needed _peace to work on the greatest piece this magazine will ever have seen_ , her Papa smiled down at her. 

"Where did you suddenly learn to obtain such an excellent eye for art?" he asked, squeezing her hand lightly. 

"Oh my Da— friend's dad is a bit of an artist. She's spent so long looking at his work that she's picked up a thing or two about art herself. I guess she kind of taught me a little about art too." The only part of that statement that was a lie was the fact that it was quite obvious that it was her own Dad and not her friend's that was the artist. Eponine smiled as she thought about her Dad's paintings. He may deny it, but her Dad was a masterful painter. His canvas would come to life whenever he stroked a brush against it. Though he claimed to only dabble in it a bit, Eponine knew just how important art was to her Dad. 

As they continued to walk alongside the streets of London, the two came by a bridal boutique. Inside the glass case on display hung a beautiful wedding dress and a neat, handsome tux. Eponine stopped walking to gaze up at the clothes, effectively stopping her Papa and dragging him beside her. 

"You don't think you're a little young to be thinking about the uses of these kinds of clothing?" he teased. Eponine continued to stare at the clothing, entranced. 

"Doesn't mean I can't appreciate it's beauty," she breathed. After a moment, she turned her eyes to look into her Papa's. "You know who that tux would look beautiful on? And I mean really, really beautiful on? You." Her Papa laughed. 

"I think the change in time has made you a little mad. Come on," he tugged on her hand as they started to walk again. 

"But seriously," Eponine tried again, "don't all these wedding clothes ever make you think about getting married once more? Or the D word?" Beside her, Papa choked on air. He stopped again and looked at her.

"The D word?" he asked, a faint blush colouring his marble cheeks. 

"My Dad." The man sighed out a breath of relief.

"Oh, that D word." He started walking again. "Well, no actually," he began, "because I didn't wear a tux when I married ‘the D word’," he explained, smiling a little at the end.

"You didn't? Why not?" Her Papa glanced at her and quirked an eyebrow. 

"Why the sudden curiosity about your Dad?" he challenged.

"Maybe because he's never mentioned?" she shot back. "You can't blame me for wondering. You can't avoid the subject forever. What was he like?" She looked up at her Papa who simply laughed. 

"Okay, he was quite lovely to tell the truth." Eponine noticed her Papa's eyes took on a sort of dreamy far-away look. "He was smart and witty and entirely charming. And quite a bit of a flirt. When we first met he was a complete flirt, actually." She saw him smile at this, and as much as Eponine didn't want to interrupt the reel of memories she was sure was playing through his head at the moment, she needed to know more. 

"So did you meet here in London?"

"No, we met on the QE2."

"QE what?" Papa gave her a one-sided smile.

"The Queen Elizabeth Two. It's an ocean liner that sails from London to New York. I wasn't very keen on flying back then. Neither was your Dad. We met our first night aboard at dinner." He looked at her again. "He's an American."

Eponine gasped, pretending she didn't already know this piece of information, or the fact that she herself was one. "No kidding? Was it love at first sight?" At this, her Papa threw back his head and laughed, blond curls bouncing in the light of the sun, amusement colouring his chiselled features. 

"I knew you were going to ask me all these questions one day!" He hailed a taxi for them to climb into. 

"Dear old Dad," Eponine quietly mused to herself. “I wonder what he's doing at this very moment." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter wrapped up! Stay tuned for next week, where we'll shift our attention over to Napa, California where we'll watch as Cosette stumbles through her days posing as an American, and discovers a few unsavoury twists in her their plan. 
> 
> Happy reading,
> 
> -A


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our hero Cosette lands in California and attempts to play American as she discovers a twist in their plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear readers!
> 
> We meet the other side of the family! Enjoy the chapter!
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All the characters belong to Les Miserables, and the dialogue and plot belongs to The Parent Trap.
> 
> -A

A considerable amount of the trip back to Napa, California was spent by anxiously twisting her hands in her lap. As she stepped out of the little plane and onto the tarmac, Cosette reminded herself to breath. She muttered a “thanks” as a man handed her Eponine’s bag. Turning back around to search through the sea of faces, Cosette felt the breath leave her lungs as her eyes spotted a man who she had previously only ever seen in a picture. 

“Oh my God, it’s him,” she marveled, “it’s actually him.” Her Dad was a ruggedly handsome man with dark wild curls that, though he may not have passed onto Eponine biologically, certainly marked him as her father. He wore an old leather aviator’s jacket atop a faded band t-shirt. _Well I guess it’s no secret where Ep gets her sense of style from._

“Hey Ep! Welcome home kid!” Cosette’s heart rate picked up as she grinned and ran through the crowd of people, stopping short just in front of her Dad. _My Dad!_ She gave him a nervous smile as she watched him put his hands on his knees to meet her level. “Get into these arms you little punk.” His vivid green eyes crinkled from his wide smile. 

“Dad. Finally!” Cosette rushed into his outstretched arms and held onto him tight as he picked her up and spun her around in the air, giving her a kiss on the cheek before letting her down and kneeling to look her in the eye. 

“I hope you had a lousy time at camp, Ep, because you are never going back there again! I missed you too much!” he announced, leaning to present her with another kiss on the cheek. His five o’clock shadow scratched the side of her face. Cosette giggled. Her Dad just kissed her! Twice already in the span of less than five minutes! She stared at him, greedily trying to drink up every second he smiled at her. Reaching over, Cosette ran a hand through his wild head of curls; it was as soft as she thought it would be. His green eyes twinkled with joy. “What are you doing?” he asked with a hint of amusement in his voice. 

“I forgot how soft your hair was while I was at camp,” she replied, a little surprised at how easily the lie came to her, “I was just reaffirming my memories that it indeed is very soft.” In front of her, her Dad laughed. 

“Well now you’re back home, so you don’t need to constantly ‘reaffirm your memories’” he said, slightly mocking her posh language. He peered at her. “What happened to you Ep?” he asked as he stood up. “Something’s changed, I can tell. Are you getting taller?” Her Dad picked up the duffel bag and threw his free arm around Cosette’s shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss to her head. Cosette burrowed herself deeper into her Dad’s one-armed embrace. 

“So,” she started, thinking of all the questions she wanted to ask her Dad and things she wanted to tell him. Thinking it wiser to save what she had to say for a little later when everyone had relaxed a little, she decided to go for a simple conversation starter. _You can do this. You can talk to your Dad who you’ve never actually interacted with ever before in your life. You’ve got this Cosette!_ “...so what’s up Dad,” she tested the word in her mouth, “I mean, how’s Bahorel and everybody?” He smiled at her. 

“Great, everyone’s great. Can’t wait to see you.” Shaking his head, he continued, “Eight weeks really is too long, you know. A lot’s been happening.” 

“A lot’s happened to me too, Dad,” she admitted. “I mean, I practically feel like a new woman!” Cosette realized she must have been staring, because her Dad stopped walking and gave her a look. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, although not without a smile, “Did I cut myself shaving?” Cosette beamed up at him. 

“Okay, first of all, Dad, your shadow is clear evidence that you didn't shave." Her Dad laughed. "And no, it’s just, I can't believe I’m actually seeing you for the first time,” she revealed, without quite realizing exactly what she said. “I mean,” she added hastily, “in such a long time.” Above her, the man gave her a lopsided grin. “You look taller to me too, Dad,” she added as an afterthought. Cosette thought of her Papa beside him and could easily imagine her Dad towering a good head over him. 

“Come on squirt, let’s get home.” He gave her another hug and once again threw an arm around her, keeping her close. Cosette hugged him back as they made their way over to the car.

_I’m going home with my Dad!_

_______________________________________

_Napa Valley is absolutely beautiful,_ Cosette thought as she watched the landscape zoom by her during the car trip. 

“Oh, by the way,” her Dad’s voice jerked her out of her thoughts, “thanks for all those letters. I’m glad I bought that personal stationery set you just _had_ to have.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. Cosette winced a little as she turned to him. 

“Sorry, Dad, we meant to write but…”

"We?” 

“Oh! Oh me and my friend!” Cosette quickly explained. “There was this girl at camp and we got really close. Practically like sisters,” she added the last part quietly. Then she looked back up to see her Dad smiling at her. “She really was quite a lovely girl.” Her Dad raised his eyebrows at her in amusement. 

“Lovely girl? Suddenly you’re so prim and proper?” He glanced down at her hands. “Still biting those nails, I see,” he remarked. Cosette was delighted. 

“Dad!” she exclaimed. “You noticed!” Beside her, the man cocked his head to the side. 

“Noticed? What do you mean I noticed? You’ve been biting on those things since the day you could chew.” The girl flushed. Of course he would know this, it wasn’t any new information. She raised her head indignantly. 

“Well I’ve decided to stop, Dad,” she declared. “It’s a horrid habit!” 

“Lovely girl, horrid habit… was this a summer camp or finishing school? And why do you keep saying Dad?” He was peering at her strangely, as if trying to decipher something. 

“Sorry,” she stammered, “I didn’t realize I was doing it, Dad.” He looked at her again as she realized what she said. “Sorry, Dad.” A sheepish smile made its way across her face. They fell into a comfortable silence until Cosette spoke up again. “Actually,” she began, “do you want to know why I keep saying Dad?” The man raised an eyebrow 

“Because you missed your old man so much?” he guessed. Cosette beamed at him. 

“Exactly! It’s because in my whole life… I mean, in these past eight weeks… I was never able to say Dad. Never! Not once! And a Dad like you is irreplaceable in a girl’s life. Just imagine someone’s life without a Dad like you! No one to take you camping, or give you piggy back rides, or joke around with. Never being able to say _Hey Dad!_ or _Catch you later Dad!_ You know?” Her Dad turned to face her with a soft smile on his face. 

“Let me see if I get this,” he said, raising his eyebrows at her. “You missed calling me _Dad_?” 

“Yeah, I really have, Dad,” she breathed out. Her Dad let out a laugh, dark curls bouncing around on his head. Cosette let herself relax in the moment and allowed the sound of her Dad’s loud laugh to fill her up. As their house came into view, however, Cosette found herself feeling exhilarated. “Oh my God. Oh my God!”

“Now you’re starting to sound more like yourself.” _It’s even more beautiful than in the pictures,_ Cosette thought as she marvelled up at the house in front of her. They drove underneath a sign that read _Grantaire Vineyard and Winery._ As she stepped out of the car, she heard a booming voice call her—or well her sister’s—name. 

“Ep, you little troublemaker! You’re finally back!” A large, burly man made his way over towards Cosette. _Bahorel._ He engulfed her little body in his, and Cosette did her best not to let out a squeak. “Look at you,” he pulled away, appraising her features, “you grew taller!” The man grinned at her. “I missed you, Eponine.”

“I missed you too, Bahorel,” she said tentatively. 

The man smiled. “Don’t let your Dad talk you out of going to camp though,” he added. “A girl your age has to have some adventure!” He looked at her for a moment longer before getting up and walking with her towards the house. “I bet you’re hungry! Come on, I’ve made my special cornbread and chilli!” At her silence, Bahorel glanced down at Cosette, who was lost in her thoughts. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked softly.

“Hm? Oh, it’s nothing I’m just… I’m just so glad to be back at home,” she admitted. They walked into the kitchen where her Dad was already standing, seemingly pondering something in his head. 

“Hey. Did I hear something about cornbread and chili?” he asked. 

“Yup, just over on the stove.” Bahorel turned his attention back on her when her Dad walked out of the kitchen. “So, something’s changed about you, Ep, I just can’t put my finger on it.” Under his scrutinizing look, Cosette swallowed nervously and plastered a smile on her face. 

“Really? Well it’s just the same old me. Honest!” she forced out. A loud bark came from beside Bahorel. “Javert!” The golden retriever barked loudly at her as Cosette backed away uneasily. 

“What’s wrong with you boy?” Bahorel inquired. “It’s just Ep.”

“It’s probably because I still smell like camp,” she offered. _It's as if he can tell the difference,_ she thought in masked terror. _He knows I'm an imposter. Of course he knows I'm an imposter! Eponine did say he was the smartest dog in America. Quick, act normal!_ She turned and walked up the stairs to find her sister's room, hiding her panicked face. 

“What’s the matter with you? It’s like you didn’t even recognize her,” Bahorel mused quietly to the dog. He let go of the dog to follow Cosette up to her room .“Okay kid,” he grabbed her attention, “what do you wanna do first? We could eat and then unpack, or we could unpack and then eat, or we could eat while we unpack—”

“You mean I can eat in my room?” Cosette interrupted abruptly. Bahorel looked at her strangely. 

“Yeah,” he started slowly, “I’d say it’s a definite possibility.” Her Dad came by the doorway.

“Hey, when you’re done, there’s someone I want you to meet. Come meet me by the pool once you’re finished, okay?”

“Sure, Dad.” As she turned around to unzip her bag, she caught a few words exchanged between Bahorel and her Dad.

“Did you tell her yet?”

“No, I will.”

“R you’ve gotta—” The sound of footsteps meant that her Dad had left the room. She heard Bahorel sigh when she turned to face him.

“Tell me what?” she inquired. Bahorel looked at Cosette, then took her by the hand and steered her towards her window, where she could spy her Dad standing close to another male figure. She furrowed her eyebrows and gladly accepted the pair of binoculars Bahorel somehow just seemed to have with him. 

“It’s none of my business, your Dad is a big boy who can do what he wants.” 

“Okay, okay, but who is _he_?” she demanded as she spied on the pair through the binoculars. They were a lot closer together than Cosette would have liked, and she tried to burn the currently unnamed and unseen man through the lens by glaring at him. 

“His name’s Montparnasse. He’s a publicist from San Francisco. Your Dad hired him to do some publicity for the vineyard. If you ask me, he’s doing a better job at selling himself than the grapes.” Through the device, Cosette saw the man— _Montparnasse—_ throw his arms around her Dad’s neck, who put his hands on his waist. Her vision turned red. She tried her best to keep her voice calm. 

“What do you mean?” she asked him, still not taking her eyes off the two. Beside her, Bahorel snorted. 

“Oi, let’s be real, Ep. You as well as I both know that your Dad isn’t some sort of bachelor-of-the-month-type, so what does a hot young thing like that see in a guy who walks around in decades-old band t-shirts with a cereal bowl filled with chili? Then I realize that there are about a million reasons why he’s giggling, and they’re all at Napa Valley Bank.” Cosette looked up at Bahorel curiously. 

“You don’t think he even really likes Dad, do you?” He rolled his eyes.

“What do I know? But he’s got your Dad eating out of the palm of his hand. They do everything together—ride together, swim together, they eat out every night. You know what, see for yourself. Don’t let me influence you,” he told her as he steered her towards the staircase. She waited outside the doorway to the pool before setting her jaw and walking out with a steely look in her eyes and after having calmed down considerably enough. 

“There’s my girl,” her Dad called out as she walked over, wrapped in a towel over her swimming suit. His face was framed by a smile. “Honey, I want you to meet a friend of mine.” He took her by the hands and led her over towards a chair, where a man was sitting reading a magazine, his face hidden by a hat. “Ep, this is Montparnasse.” The man in question raised his head so she could better see his features. His face was sharp with angles and his eyes were a stormy grey. His hair was as black as night and was cut short and neat. Although it was a hot summer day, the man was dressed to the nines, complete with a blazer and tie. Though Cosette hated to admit this, he was rather beautiful, almost like a dark version of her Papa. But whereas her Papa’s features were quick to light up into a bright and warm expression, Cosette saw nothing but cold emptiness on this man’s face, even as he smiled at her. 

“Hi,” she said stiffly, extending her hand when she noticed her Dad staring at her expectantly. The man sat forward in his chair and shook her hand. 

“Hi,” he said back to her, coating the word with fake-sweetness. “Wow. I can’t believe I’m finally meeting the famous Eponine Grantaire. I have heard so much about you and have looked forward to this all summer.” Cosette gave him a tight smile.

“Really? Well here I am,” she responded. He looked over to her Dad, who smiled back at him and caused Cosette to clench her jaw tighter.

“Oh, Rene, she is absolutely adorable!” He turned back towards her. “You know the way your Dad talked about you, I expected to meet a little girl but you are so grown up.”

“I’ll be twelve soon,” she told him. She tilted her head to the side and looked into his eyes. “How old are you?” she challenged. The man was caught off-guard by the question, but he morphed his face once again to reveal a serene smile. 

“Twenty-two,” he replied crisply. Cosette hummed. 

“Only about ten years older than I am.” This time, she turned her face to look at her Dad. “How old are you again, Dad?” Her Dad’s green eyes went wide with panic as he forced out a laugh.

“Suddenly so interested in math, are we?” He jumped up from his seat and squeezed Cosette by the shoulders. “Look, I’m gonna go get some more chilli, perhaps some champagne to celebrate.” She looked at her Dad curiously.

“What are we celebrating?”

“Your homecoming, of course,” Montparnasse jumped in. As her Dad walked away the other man pulled out his ringing phone. He gave her a wink as he held the device up to his ear. Cosette huffed out a breath and rolled her eyes, turning around and walking away towards the pool. She sat down, shedding her towel and dipped her feet in the water. Swishing her feet in the warm water, she listened as the man chatted on the phone with a Bishop Myriel of some sorts. 

“Hello. Yes, Bishop Myriel… uh huh. I’ll certainly ask him but I doubt if he’ll be available. I understand it’s for a local charity? Oh yes… I am writing it all down.” Once again rolling her eyes, Cosette turned to glare at him. There was nothing in his hands, he wasn’t writing anything down. _Figures he’d be a liar,_ she thought glumly. “Okay it sounds very worthwhile, I agree, but unfortunately Mr. Grantaire will be out of the country. Yes, absolutely. I will be sure to mention it to him. Thank you.” The quiet click of the phone indicated that he had ended the call. The last few words Montparnasse had said forced Cosette to turn around. _Out of the country?_ She watched as Montparnasse eagerly sat forward in his seat and called out to her. “So Ep,” he used the nickname only a few people were allowed to use on her sister, “how was camp? Was it fabulous?”

“My Dad’s going out of the country?” she asked, choosing to ignore what he had said.

“Oh no, I just had to tell a little white lie to get him out of something.” He winked at her again. _This man winks almost as much as Uncle Courfeyrac does,_ she thought, except none of his winks made her smile like Uncle Courf’s did. “You know,” he began again, startling Cosette out of her thoughts, “I have never heard a man talk about his daughter the way Rene talks about you. You two are obviously incredibly close.” Cosette stood up. 

“Oh well, you know we’re even closer than close.” She turned around to face the water. “We’re all each other has.” And with that, she gave a great cannon ball into the pool, effectively dousing Montparnasse with water. The man jumped up and gave a shout of surprise. She swam closer to him. “Oops! Sorry!” she exclaimed, not really sounding sorry at all. “Did I get you wet there, Mont?” He looked at her and grit his teeth when responding.

“Just a little, Ep.” Dress shoe heels-clicking, he walked over closer to her. “Hey, guess what? Your Daddy took me riding the other day and let me ride your horse. I hope that’s okay with you.” This was it. This was her chance to ward off the man and banish him from her Dad’s life forever. She sat up straighter in her pool ring and smiled saccharine sweetly at him. 

“Of course,” she told him. His expression cleared a little, before Cosette decided to push forward, “I mean,” she continued, “it’s not the first time Sprout’s had a strange man ride him. Not that you’re strange or anything. Actually, compared to the others, you’re relatively normal.” Cosette didn’t miss the way Montparnasse’s eye subtly twitched. She felt a flash of victory when he straightened up and asked:  
  
“Others? What others?” The girl raised her eyebrows at him. 

“You want the 4-1-1?” she asked, cocking her head to the side. He narrowed his eyes at her.

“What’s the 4-1-1?” he asked in spite of himself.

Cosette waved her hand dismissively. “You know,” she peered into his eyes, “the information, the lowdown on other men. Can’t blame you for wanting to know. I’d wanna know too if I was number twenty-eight—I mean, number twenty-nine in a man’s life.” Montparnasse looked into her eyes with a look that said _I don’t trust you._

“I’m number twenty nine?” he asked incredulously. 

“Oh yeah,” Cosette nodded her head vigorously, “it’s always the same routine: horseback riding, through the vineyards, romantic dinners with special reserve label wine… moonlight swims… ” out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the familiar dark curls of her Dad’s hair walking towards them. 

“Here we go, a bottle of special reserve label,” he announced, flourishing the bottle in his hands. Cosette raised her eyebrows at Montparnasse, who’s smile in the meantime had turned much more forced. Her Dad came up beside them. “Did you two find something to talk about?” In response, Cosette dived under the water where neither her Dad nor Montparnasse could see her.

_I’ve gotta tell Eponine about this mess!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a wrap for this week! Stay tuned for next week where the twins continue to persist in their charade as others get suspicious, plans are thrown into array, and mysteries are discovered.
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> -A


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In London, our hero Eponine learns more about her Papa's lifestyle as she tries to avoid growing suspicions from certain family members. Over in Napa, our hero Cosette receives an alarming piece of news and figures she won't be able to succeed in her endeavours alone. Featuring a suspicious phone conversation, a boxing session gone awry, and a secret spilled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear readers,
> 
> Bit of a longer chapter today. At this point, instead of having individual chapters for each twin, we'll be exploring both twins perspectives in the same chapters. Also, moving forward from this point, we'll start to see Grantaire and Enjolras' point of view as well, which I'm quite excited to write! Quick note: you've probably realized that there are some things that are capitalized that don't necessarily have to be (ex. Uncle, Dad, Papa, Grandfather, Ange/Angel) and the reasoning behind it is to make it act almost like a title or a name, if you can picture that, so no, I'm not unnecessarily capitalizing things. 
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All the characters belong to Les Miserables, and the dialogue and plot belongs to The Parent Trap.
> 
> -A

It had only been three days and Eponine could not get over how cool her Papa was. On this particular morning he had left her in the house alone with her Grandfather in order to head a protest with Uncle ‘Ferre and Uncle ‘Courf by his side. As she sat alone in her room, she could understand why her sister had sounded so bitter when she told her that Papa would leave her at home when he organized his protests. She wanted to be a part of the action too! 

At the current moment, she was sitting in her Grandfather’s study, twirling her Papa’s wedding ring around her finger. As soon as she had gotten home yesterday she had headed to her room and attached the ring to a chain which she could wear around her neck. Now, she wore it around herself all the time, underneath her shirt and hidden from view when she was with her Papa. 

“Grandfather, do you know what _mon Ange_ means?” she queried. Her Grandfather frowned at her. 

“I do, Cosette, but you should too. Have those eight weeks at camp already made you forget your roots?” Eponine flushed. That was right; her sister was supposed to be fluent in French. Eponine just couldn’t stop messing up.

“Sorry,” she mumbled under her breath, looking up in shock when her Grandfather laughed. 

“I’m just teasing, child. I don’t expect you to remember every single word in French.” Eponine shot him a grateful smile. “It means ‘my angel,’ to answer your question.”

 _My Angel._ Her Dad once called her Papa his Angel.

“Why do you ask?” She turned away from her Grandfather as she looked at the ring once more. 

“No reason,” she replied quietly. When she turned back around, it looked as if her Grandfather was going to say something when someone started pounding on the front door. Eponine jumped and her heart hammered in her chest. Were they being robbed?

“Ah,” her Grandfather said, the epitome of calm. “It seems your Papa is back from the protest.” Eyes wide, Eponine bolted out of the room, ripping open the door to come face-to-face with a slightly bloodied Papa, who was being held on either side by her two Uncles. 

“Papa!” she cried out in horror.

“Hey ‘Sette,” he greeted curtly. Her Uncle ‘Ferre glared at him.

“Enjolras I swear to God, if you try to say another word I will personally inject a sedative into your system.” Her Papa flinched. Wordlessly, Eponine made room for the trio to get in through the door.

“Cosette do you think you could be a darling and fetch a chair for your Papa?” When Eponine didn’t make a move, her Uncle Courf called out her name once more. “Cosette! Did you hear what I said?” It was then that Eponine realized that his words had been directed at her. 

“Oh yeah, sure, of course.” She hurried out of the room, and came back a few seconds later carrying a chair from the dining room. They seated her Papa on the chair, her Uncle ‘Ferre afterwards leaving the room to retrieve his medical kit. “What happened?” she asked, voice shaking. Papa simply waved his hand dismissively.

“It was just a regular protest, Cosette, don’t worry.” Don’t worry? How can she not worry when her Papa had blood on himself and had to be physically carried into the house? A moment later, her Uncle Ferre came back into the room, bag in hand. He leaned down in front of her Papa’s face. Uncle Courf had left the room after that to retrieve a glass of water from the kitchen. 

“Cosette do you think you can lend me a hand?” her Uncle Ferre called, not looking away from her Papa’s face. She nodded eagerly and stepped forward, wanting to help in whatever way she could. “Hold that there.” He handed her a cloth that had been made wet with what was presumably disinfectant. She pressed it gently to her Papa’s forehead where there appeared a bloody cut, wincing when he let out a hiss from the sting. After about two minutes, Uncle Ferre told her to remove the cloth as he began to dress the wound. 

“What happened?” she tried again. She wanted to know what exactly happened at the protest. Her Uncle ‘Ferre let out a frustrated sigh. 

“What else ‘Sette,” he muttered as he continued dressing his cut, “a group of counter protestors clashed with us again, and when a riot broke out your _Papa_ here decided to confront them instead of running for the escape route like I said—”

“Was I supposed to simply let them spew their hateful rhetoric? Besides, I only went over to try and speak peacefully. I wasn’t the first one to throw a punch,” her Papa interrupted bitterly. Uncle ‘Ferre glared at him. 

“Enjolras, you know better than this. How many times have we been through this same routine? You don’t approach counter-protestors during a riot!”

“Why?” he argued back. “Wasn’t that the whole reason we held the protest? To combat attitudes like this? Hate incites violence, ‘Ferre.” He gestured wildly to his bright, rainbow t-shirt that had the sentence _everyone deserves to love and be loved_ written on it boldly. "Look, they’ve just proved our point!"

“Our point could have been proven without you getting hurt like this, Enjolras!” It seemed as if Uncle ‘Ferre had finally had enough, because he had raised his voice and snapped his case shut. No one missed the little groan that had escaped her Papa’s mouth at the sound of the snapping of the case. Uncle Courf came back carrying a glass of water. He crouched down in front of the chair. 

“Drink this, Enjolras,” he gently handed the glass over to him. “Small, slow sips,” he watched over him as her Uncle ‘Ferre disappeared once again, this time returning with a small flashlight. By this time, her Papa had given back the glass and had squeezed his eyes shut. Uncle ‘Ferre crouched in front of him. 

“Can you open your eyes for me, Enjolras?” he asked, this time a lot more gentle. Albeit reluctantly, her Papa opened his eyes, letting another moan slip from his lips as her Uncle shined the light into his pupils. After he asked him a series of questions, all of which her Papa had answered without putting up a fight, Uncle ‘Ferre announced that her Papa had earned himself a concussion, which, if he did not allow himself some rest, would end up turning into a full-blown migraine. With Uncle Courf’s help, he carried him back to his room where they made the space as dark as possible and gently laid him in bed so he could get some rest. 

“Will he be okay?” Eponine asked in a tiny voice once the two men returned from the bedroom. 

“He’ll be fine, ‘Sette, don’t stress,” her Uncle ‘Ferre gave her a weary smile. “He just needs to take better care of himself. There’s only so many times someone can take another blow to the head." 

That night, she had dinner with her two Uncles and her Grandfather. She went to sleep, worrying about her Papa’s health, but also secretly thinking about how cool he was. 

The next morning, she almost fell over herself as she watched him bustle around in the kitchen, looking healthy as could be. At her shocked face, her Uncle Courf, who had stayed over with Uncle Ferre so they could monitor Papa's health, laughed. 

“Honestly ‘Sette, I don’t know why you’re so surprised,” he said with an amused look, “he does this every time.” She looked over from him to her Papa, who was cooking eggs on the stovetop. 

“But… but...” she tried to get her mouth to make words, “I thought you said he needs to rest!” Her Uncle ‘Ferre came up beside her. 

“He did rest,” he told her. “He slept all throughout last night. For your Papa, that’s a lot.” 

_______________________________________

It took a good few more hours for Eponine’s nerves to relax, but when they finally did, she made sure to spend every second she could by her Papa’s side. At the insistence of Uncle 'Ferre, he and Uncle Courf were working from home today, which meant the two had a lot more freedom to get up and do what they wanted (particularly Uncle Courf, who was using most of his time to loudly belt out showtunes and effectively piss off her Papa) when they wanted without other workers glaring. 

It was later that the phone rang. 

“Courfeyrac,” her Papa called, “do you think you could get that?” 

“What will you give me?” he yelled back.

“Courf…” 

“Got it. Hello, Enjolras residence,” he answered into the device. The man’s brows furrowed. “Cosette?” Eponine walked by.

“Yes?” she asked. Her Uncle Courf looked at her. 

“Sounds just like you,” he said, holding his hand over the mouthpiece. He put the phone back to his ear. “Yes, who did you want to speak to? Cosette? Alright. Give me a sec.” He handed the phone over to her while shaking with silent laughter. “Some unfortunately named Mildred Plotka wants to talk to you. Sounds just like your twin.” From the table, her Papa coughed. 

Eponine let out a nervous laugh. “My twin?” she asked innocently. “Very funny.” She put the phone to her ear and spoke into it. “Mildred, darling how are you?” she exclaimed loudly. 

“How’s it going over there?” she could hear her sister’s voice from the other end of the line.

“Everything’s quite perfect over here, Mildred old friend, let me just find somewhere more private…” 

“Okay, but hurry, I’ve really got to talk to you,” came her twin’s anxious voice from the other side. 

Eponine looked for somewhere inconspicuous she could talk to her sister in peace. _Think! Think!_ She looked both ways; her Papa was occupied with his work on the laptop and her Uncle Courf had walked away. Without much thought, she dived into the coat closet. 

“Okay,” she breathed into the phone, “now I can talk.” She was silent for a moment before she let everything she was thinking of come tumbling past her lips. “Oh my God Papa is incredible! I cannot believe I lived my whole life without him! He’s beautiful and kind and fun and cool and smart and passionate… oh! But he’s really gotta take better care of himself. I swear he’d run himself into the ground if not for Uncle ‘Ferre and Uncle Courf…”

“Eponine…” 

“Oh and I found his wedding ring too! Did you know Dad used to call Papa his Angel?"

"Eponine…"

"Oh! And I got him talking about Dad and how they first met and if you ask me…” 

“Eponine stop!” The girl finally fell silent. Her sister sounded very anxious. 

"What's wrong?" She asked hesitantly. Her heart fell. "Do you… do you not like Dad?" 

"What? Of course I love him, what kind of question is that? _Oh thank God._ "He's amazing but that's not the problem," her sister was starting to sound more and more panicked, and Eponine was beginning to wonder if her Papa wasn't the only one in the family with anxiety problems. 

" 'Sette, take a deep breath." On the other side of the line, she heard her twin inhale. "Good, now do it again."

"Eponine—" 

"Just do it." She could hear her sister give her a familiar frustrated huff before obeying. She took a breath. And then another. And then another. Her breathing started to even out. Eponine quietly smiled. "Feeling better?" 

"Loads," her sister sighed. "But seriously, Ep, listen. We've got a problem. You need to bring Papa over here immediately!"

"Immediately?!" Eponine cried. Then she cursed herself for being so loud. After staying silent for a moment to make sure no one heard, she spoke into the phone again, this time quieter. "Are you nuts? I've only had a few days with him! I can't! I won't!" 

"This is an emergency! Dad's in love!" Eponine snorted. 

"Get out of town! Dad doesn't fall in love. At least not seriously, and preferably not with anyone who isn't our Papa," she told her twin. 

"Well he's pretty serious about this one," her sister shot back. "He's always holding his hand or waiting on his hand and foot."

"He is?" Eponine couldn't imagine it. Her Dad wasn't like that. Was he?

"It's disgusting," her sister informed solemnly. 

"Break 'em up! Do whatever you have to do!" 

"I'm trying, but I do think I'm at a slight disadvantage. I've only known the man for a few days. For heaven's sake it hasn't even been an entire week!" Her sister sounded desperate and frustrated. "You've got to come and help me." 

As she was digging around in her pocket, Eponine told her firmly, "I can't. I want more time with Papa." Her hand snagged on a candy wrapper. _Ah ha!_ She brought the wrapper towards the mouth piece and started wrinkling it. 

"What's going on?" Eponine heard her sister's voice call faintly. 

"I don't know," she replied, holding the phone away from her in an attempt to make it seem as if the connection was getting worse. "Hello? Cosette are you still there?"

"I'm here," her sister tried yelling through the sound of the crinkling wrapper. Eponine intensified the speed of the crinkling and held the phone even further away. 

"Cosette? Hello? 'Sette I think I'm losing you. Hello? Hello?" With a satisfied smirk she disconnected the call and reached for the doorknob. On all fours, she attempted to crawl out of the closet without drawing any attention to herself. However, as soon as she opened the closet door, she found herself face to face with four very amused men. Her Papa raised his eyebrows at her.

"Have a good chat?" he asked curtly.

Eponine looked from face to face—Uncle Courf looked like he was about to burst into laughter at any second. Grandfather Valjean simply had a smile on his face. Uncle 'Ferre was looking at her with a calculating look, as if he were trying to put together a puzzle but couldn't find the last piece. _He's the smartest person I know and he notices everything, so you need to be especially careful of him._ She remembered her sister's words and swallowed nervously. With a weak smile, she turned her eyes back to her Papa, who was still watching her with raised brows. 

"Hi," she croaked out. "It was a great chat. Actually it's an old camp tradition… talk from inside a closet. Kind of stupid, I know but," she shrugged her shoulders in what she hoped was nonchalance, "what can I do? Traditions are traditions." With that, Eponine pushed herself onto her feet and walked away, quietly putting away the phone and praying to whoever was up there that no one had picked up any part of her conversation.

_______________________________________

Cosette stared at the phone as the line went dead with disconnection. Seriously, did her sister think she was stupid? 

"Thanks for all the help Ep," she mumbled.

_______________________________________

Cosette let out a frustrated huff. She was delighted that her twin was enjoying her time with their Papa, really she was, but this was a real emergency she was dealing with here, and frankly, she didn't know what to do about it. The thought of being useless was stressing her out. _Breathe Cosette,_ she reminded herself. The last thing she needed to do was have a full-blown anxiety attack in front of the man she was supposed to be fooling into thinking she was Eponine. Her sister was the epitome of calm and cool. Her sister never got stressed about anything.

Her sister didn't have any use for the anxiety pills she had carefully hidden away from the eyes of Bahorel.

Cosette heard Eponine's name be called from downstairs for breakfast. She flinched. Yet another challenge to face. As she so carelessly forgot to mention, she was a vegetarian. Both her Papa and her were vegetarians actually, so when Bahorel had finally handed her that bowl of meat chilli the first night, she had to do her best job of not breathing through her nose while she made up an excuse as to why she wasn't feeling hungry enough for chilli.

That night, she went to bed after a dinner of nothing but cornbread, which had earned her a few strange looks from Dad and Bahorel.

Much like the other meals she had afterwards did.

It seemed there hadn't been a single meal where the main dish wasn't filled with meat. So for the past few days, Cosette had been living off of fruit, bread, and peanut butter and jelly. Is this really what her Papa ate when no one was there to take care of him?

Sighing, she trudged down the stairs to where Bahorel was waiting for her in the kitchen wearing a goofy _kiss the cook_ apron. Despite the stress of the last couple of days, the sight was enough to make her genuinely smile. She walked up to the counter where he stood.

"So," he gave her a dazzling smile which she returned, "the most important meal of the day! Breakfast! Lets see… we've got scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and if you're really hungry, a stack of chocolate chip pancakes that smell amazing if you ask me." Cosette let out a breath of relief. Other than the bacon, which she gingerly picked up with a fork and deposited onto a separate plate, she could actually have a proper breakfast and eat what was given to her. She looked back up to see Bahorel watching her. "Not in the mood for bacon?" he asked. Something about his tone was strange. She gave him a weak smile.

"I guess not." He stared at her for a moment more before taking the plate of bacon away from her. _Thank God._ Cosette breathed a little easier now that the plate of meat was further away from her.

Something Bahorel didn't fail to notice. 

"Have you developed some sort of allergy to meat over at that summer camp or something?" He asked, searching her face for an answer. 

"Uh," she started, unsure what to say. She decided to avoid the question. "Where's Dad?" Bahorel stayed silent for a moment, acknowledging the fact that she didn't give him an answer to his question. In the end, however, he relented. 

"He and Mr. "I'll Just Have Half A Grapefruit Thank You" left about an hour ago. You overslept and he didn't wanna wake you. I'd oversleep too if I were up at midnight making mysterious phone calls in the bathroom." He raised his eyebrows at her.

 _Damn it!_ She'd hoped no one would notice. She twisted her hands nervously.

"Oh," she said, forcing a laugh out of her throat, "that. I was calling someone from camp. Mildred—she lives in New York so…" she trailed off, hoping the lie was believable enough. Bahorel finished for her. 

"I see. So you waited to call Mildred then because of the time difference." She let out a breath of relief. 

"Exactly. Because of the time difference," she told him. Bahorel narrowed his eyes at her. 

"Right. So you waited until it was three a.m. her time. That makes perfect sense." Cosette felt her mouth run dry. 

"Actually," she started, floundering for an excuse, an explanation, _anything,_ "it was 7 p.m. her time. She lives in New York but is vacationing in Bora Bora," she hastily invented. Bahorel's eyes were still narrowed at her. 

"Very smooth," he eventually conceded. He stayed silent for a moment more before he finally decided to drop the subject. She shifted in her seat and winced as she felt her abdomen ache from yesterday's lesson. Last evening Bahorel had taken her down to the training room for their weekly boxing session and it did _not_ go well. Grimacing, her mind drifted back to the embarrassing events of the day before. 

_______________________________________

_"I'm not entirely sure I'm quite well enough for this, Bahorel, perhaps we could do this tomorrow_ —"

" _You want to push off boxing? But you're usually begging me to give you extra lessons," Bahorel frowned. Cosette's eyes widened in panic. Mentally she cursed herself; she just couldn't stop messing up in front of Bahorel. "Is there something you wanna tell me, Eponine?" Bahorel's voice jerked her out of her thoughts. His face was etched with concern. Forcing a bright smile, she shook her head._

_"No," she croaked. "Sorry, you're right, I should be learning as much as I can." Pushing her way past him, she picked up her gloves. "Let's get started."_

_Bahorel furrowed his eyebrows. "Yeah, sure, let's get started. Maybe with the cardio workout we go through every session before even picking up our gloves." Cosette dropped the gloves like the touch burned her._

_"Sorry," she smiled weakly._

_After an intense workout session that left her sweating buckets and Bahorel still amazingly dry, they turned their focus on the punching bag._

_"Alright, Ep, favourite part of the day. Let's just warm up with a few punches to this thing then move onto actual combat." He tapped the punching bag. Unaware of technique or knowledge or any sort of skill, she meekly made a fist and gave it a light punch._

_The bag did not move._

_She furrowed her eyebrows and tried again._

_Still nothing._

_She glared at the bag as she felt Bahorel's confused gaze burn into her figure._ Come on, _she thought,_ why won't you move? _Mustering as much strength as she could, Cosette raised her gloves and delivered her hardest hit to the bag._

_It swung forward, smacking her full-frontal on the face on its return; she toppled over backwards and fell with a yelp._

_"Eponine!" Bahorel dropped to her side. "You okay, kid?" Avoiding his gaze, she swallowed and nodded._

_"Yeah, I'm fine. Just caught off guard I guess," she muttered. Bahorel opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off. "Why don't we just move onto the next thing?" He frowned._

_"I'm not really sure, kid. If you can't even deal with the bag, I'm not sure if_ —"

_"I can handle it," she interrupted flatly. "Let's just do it." Peering at her, Bahorel sighed._

_"Alright." He led her over to a square mat, taking up his stance opposite of where she stood._

_Wait._

_Her blood drained. He wasn't possibly…_

_"Fists up, Ep!" With that, he stepped forwards and swung. Panicking, she raised her hands flat above her face to shield herself, absorbing most of the impact into her palms. She groaned with pain as the force sent her staggering back._

_"Come on, kid. Remember the strategies I taught you. How do you block a blow?" He swung again. Panicking, she thought,_ I don't know! _She turned away as the glove connected with her face, sending her sprawling to the side. Instinctively, she raised her fist and aimed a weak punch at the larger man. Bahorel side-stepped and swung again, this time feigning for her face, and when she aimed to block, he dived for her abdomen._

_The breath was knocked out out of her lungs as she felt her body fly back, crashing into the weight stand, sending the entire thing plunging down to the ground. Just in time, she rolled out of the way flat onto her back as the weights tumbled to the floor. She groaned._

_"Kid!" Bahorel knelt by her. "Are you hurt?" Dazed, she shook her head, desperately praying her incompetence didn't just expose her secret. Bahorel peered at her strangely. "What's going on? Hell, Eponine I knew that you would be a little rough from those weeks at camp, but it's like you've never boxed before." He narrowed his eyes. "You can't throw a punch, you can't block an attack. What's wro_ —"

_Cosette couldn't have been more satisfied with the moment her Dad picked to come racing down the stairs._

_"I heard a crash! What happened?" He frantically looked over to where Cosette was lying next to the scattered weights._

_"It's nothing, R. Ep and I were just training."_

_"Right. Can we please try do that without killing my daughter? It's not like I have another one of her on stand-by." Cosette rolled her eyes._ I'm pretty sure you do Dad. 

_Bahorel hadn't taken his puzzled eyes off her. "Yeah, yeah. Maybe you just need some rest, kid. Lesson’s over for this week."_

_She nodded meekly._

_______________________________________

"Okay," Bahorel's words jerked her back to the present, "your Dad wants to meet you in his office after breakfast."

"He does?" Cosette asked, surprised. "Okay then," she took a bite of her toast before leaping off her chair and heading towards the door. "I'm done!" Javert came in, barking like mad. It seemed the dog still hadn't gotten used to Cosette's presence. _He knows I'm an imposter._ Bahorel did not fail to pick up on this. She glanced uneasily at him. "That dog has gotten so weird," she told him, feigning surprise. "Thanks again for breakfast Bahorel. It was lovely." When Cosette pulled on the door handle, she found it wouldn't budge. She pulled again. And again. And again. _Come on!_ she thought desperately. 

"Push, Ep." Cosette shot him a sheepish smile.

"Sorry, I forgot," she pushed the door and did her best to ignore the strange look the burly man was giving her. 

_______________________________________

"Honey, I'm glad you're here, there's something really important I want to talk to you about." Cosette and her Dad were walking through the vineyards, one of the man's arms thrown around his daughter's shoulders. 

"That's funny," she replied, looking up into those familiar green orbs she's come to adore. "Because there's something really important that I wanna talk about too." He looked down at her.

"Really? You go first then."

"No, you go first." He stared at her for a second more before turning away, his dark curls bouncing after him. 

"Okay," he turned back to face her with a more determined look in his eyes. "I want to talk to you about Montparnasse." 

"And I wanna talk to you about my Papa," Cosette blurted out. "What about Montparnasse?" she added afterwards. 

"What about your Papa? I'm right here," her Dad gave her what he obviously thought was a winning smile. She looked at him, unimpressed. 

"Dad, we both know that I'm not talking about you." Her Dad sighed before giving in.

"Okay fine. What about your Papa?" This time his tone of voice made it clear he wasn't referring to himself. Cosette sighed deeply. 

"Dad, I'm almost twelve. How long do you expect me to buy that story you told me about the storks?" 

"Ep we've talked about your _Papa_ ," her Dad argued. 

"No we haven't," Cosette shot back, frustration rising, "not really. A girl needs more than half a crumpled up photo, Dad. I'm almost a teenager. Face it, I need a second father." Looking up into his eyes, Cosette implored him to understand her plight. She wanted him to understand all the things she couldn't say through her gaze. Cosette wanted so badly to be able to live with her sister who she had only just met, and she wanted her parents to be happy with each other again. She knew in her heart that they still loved each other, but here was her Dad being stubborn and supposedly _falling in love_ with another man. He looked down at her for a moment more before beginning to speak. 

"You know what?" he asked. "You're right. You do need a second father, which brings me to— Montparnasse!" Cosette jumped. In front of her appeared Montparnasse, closely trailed by a second man in a suit, so inconspicuous he looked rather like Montparnasse's shadow as opposed to an actual individual. _Why does he look like the personification of night itself?_ Cosette thought, subtly rolling her eyes. 

"Hi Rene," he winked at her Dad. Glancing down at her, Montparnasse plastered a smile on his face as he greeted Cosette. "Hi, Ep." 

"Hi," she replied without much affection. He gestured to the man behind him to come closer. 

"Eponine, this is my assistant Claquesous." He turned to the man. "Claquesous, this is Rene's daughter, the one I've been telling you so much about." He stated the last words unnecessarily loudly. The man beside him smiled at her, though it held about the same amount of affection as Montparnasse's did. 

"Hello there," he greeted stiffly. Cosette's smile tightened. 

"Hi." Beside her, she caught a few of the words exchanged between Montparnasse and her Dad. 

_Did you tell her yet?_

_Almost._

She turned to glare at the pair. This whole hiding-the-truth business was getting out of hand. Someone had to tell her what it was that her Dad was going to say to her. 

"Hey," Montparnasse began, glancing around at the group, "I have an idea. Why don't we all have lunch together on the terrace?" Her Dad shot him an apologetic smile. 

"I can't," he told him, "I promised Ep that we would hang out together." Montparnasse's smile faltered as Cosette gave him a smirk. 

"No problem!" He regained his composure. "I've got plenty to do. I'm working on an all new design label featuring Y-O-U!" He gave a dramatic flourish. "You'll love it." Then, looking Cosette in the eyes, added: "See you at dinner." Crossing her arms, she glared at the man as he and his _lackey_ turned around and left. 

_______________________________________

"First change I make in that household is to send that little two-faced brat off to Timbuktu for boarding school."

"Ooh, icy!"

"Proud of it my good man."

_______________________________________

"Come on, Dad!" Cosette laughed as she left her Dad in the dust. Her sister's horse was absolutely amazing. Not only was he gorgeous, but he was the fastest horse out of all the ones at the stable. 

"Okay, okay, you win! Give that poor horse a rest!" Her Dad's hair looked positively wilder from their little race and his eyes sparkled with adrenaline. "So are you looking forward to our camping trip, Ep?" Cosette stared at him blankly. 

"What camping trip?" Her Dad's eyebrows furrowed. 

"What camping trip?" he asked incredulously. "The one we take every summer, that camping trip!" Cosette flushed. She was supposed to know that. 

"Oh, that one," she said weakly. "Yeah I can't wait." Her Dad looked at her for a moment longer before he cleared his throat.

"So, er, Ep… what do you think about Montparnasse?" he asked tentatively. Cosette looked over the landscape of Napa Valley from the hilltop they were perched upon. 

"As what, Dad? Your publicist? Your friend? Your…?" 

"No, just as… as a person." 

"Let's see… " Cosette began counting her fingers. "He's cute. He has nice teeth, hair. He can spell the word _you._ " She turned back to face her Dad and sighed. "Honestly Dad? The man's a complete stranger to me. But why do you want my opinion?" Cosette's heart rate picked up. He couldn't possibly be suggesting…? No. It was too horrible to even think about. This was not happening. 

"I'll tell you why, Ep," her Dad's words jerked her out of her thoughts. "Believe it or not…" Before her Dad could finish his words, however, Cosette pulled on her horse's reigns. 

"Race you back, Dad!" she called out as she began to pick up speed. 

"Wait Ep!" She heard her Dad yell from behind her. "I'm trying to tell you something! Ep!" 

Cosette ignored his words and pushed on. This couldn't be happening. This absolutely could not be happening. She needed some time alone to think. Rushing back to the house, she practically flew down to the training room, shoving on her boxing gloves and taking on the punching bag with a new vigour. Perhaps she wasn't a very skilled boxer, but God she just really needed something to hit and vent her frustrations onto right now, and her fists upon the bag just _felt so good._

"I can't do this!" She muttered to herself as she delivered blow after blow. "I can't do this! I'm way over my head in here! I'm only one kid!" 

"Anything you wanna share with the class there?" A deep voice materialized from behind her. Screaming, Cosette swivelled on her heel fast, her fist curling up on instinct and connecting with the first thing she saw. Bahorel staggered back, hands flying to his pain-etched face. 

"Okay, I deserved that for sneaking up on you. Although," he glanced up at her with a small smile, "I will admit that that was _much_ better than yesterday." Still unable to get over her shock, Cosette put a hand to her rapidly moving chest.

"Bahorel! Oh my God! You gave me a fright!" The man's expression quickly gave way to a look of disbelief.

"I'm sorry, I _gave you a fright?"_ He was looking at her as if she had gone mad. 

"You scared me," she quickly amended, "I didn't know you were, like, here." She laid her American accent on extra thick. The man walked closer to her, scrutinizing her face as she shrunk closer into herself. 

"Are you sure there's nothing you want to talk to me about?" he asked suspiciously. "Like why Javert never comes near you anymore? Or why you suddenly won't even breathe in the same direction as meat? How about the fact that I've been training you to box since you were out of the womb and suddenly you can't even throw a basic uppercut? Or the fact that all of a sudden you're neat as a pin and are using expressions like _you gave me a fright_?" Helplessly, Cosette opened and closed her mouth, trying to think of something to say. 

"I've just changed a lot over the summer, Bahorel, that's it." He continued to stare at her before sighing. 

"Okay," he sighed, though he wasn't very convinced. "Man, if I didn't know any better, I'd say it's almost like you were…" he stopped abruptly and turned around. "Forget it, it's impossible." Cosette peered at his back curiously. 

"Almost as if I were who, Bahorel?" she inquired. 

"Nobody," he waved a hand dismissively as he walked further away, "forget I said anything." Cosette hesitated. Then she spoke up. 

"Almost as if I were… Cosette?" Bahorel stopped in his tracks. The room was completely silent, the air only punctuated by the two figures' breathing. Slowly, he turned around to look Cosette in the eyes. 

"You know about Cosette?" he breathed out. Silently steeling herself, Cosette closed her eyes and took a deep breath. _It's okay, you can trust him. It's Bahorel._ Then she dropped her American accent. 

"I am Cosette," she quietly admitted. In front of her, Bahorel inhaled sharply. 

That's when her Dad decided to come bursting down into the room. 

"Ep? Ep why'd you take off on me like that? I have to tell you something important!" Upon seeing Bahorel, he did a double take. "Bahorel why are you looking at her like that?" 

"Looking at her like what?" he asked, unwilling to look away from Cosette, who hadn't taken her eyes off of him either. His eyes were tearing up. He sniffed, "I'm not looking at her in any special way. I'm looking at her like I have been for the past eleven years. Since the day she came home from the hospital. Six pounds, eleven ounces. This is how I look at her!" His voice cracked. "Can I hug her?" At Cosette's shaky smile and nod, he crossed the floor in two giant steps and swooped down to engulf her in his arms. "Oh she's so beautiful!" he sobbed. "And so big!" Cosette hugged him back fiercely, revelling in his warmth and comfort. When he pulled back, his eyes were shining with tears, and Cosette wouldn't be surprised if her own were too. She brushed away a tear drop from his face. Clapping his hands together, he jumped up and started walking backwards up the stairs. "I'm gonna make you something to eat. What would you like? Doesn't matter, I'll just whip up everything we have. Oh! It'll have to be vegetarian, won't it? I'll make sure it's vegetarian too!" he added as he turned around and walked away. 

Letting out a shaky laugh, Cosette found it was so much easier to breathe now that there was at least one other person here who knew her secret. She didn’t even realize how much it had been suffocating her to lie to so many people for so long, and now that Bahorel finally knew who she really was and decided to keep her secret, by the looks of it, she felt as if a bit of weight had been taken off of her shoulders. 

Then the reality of the whole situation came crashing down around her, and with great difficulty, she turned to face her Dad without appearing too tired of the entire ordeal. 

Her Dad took her by the hands and led her upstairs silently. They walked towards the sofa, him seating her across from himself where he could clearly see her face and whatever emotions she may be trying to hide in it. Giving her hands a gentle squeeze, her Dad looked directly into her eyes and smiled. 

“Ep, we need to talk.” She took a deep breath.

“Okay, shoot.”

“Ep,” he hesitated, “I wanna know what you think about making Montparnasse a part of our family.” 

A beat.

“Part of our family?” Cosette asked, slightly breathless. Her Dad nodded. His eyes were painfully earnest, which is why it almost broke Cosette's heart thinking about what she was about to do next. 

Almost. 

A smile bloomed bold and bright on her face. “I think it’s an awesome idea Dad,” she told him, squeezing his hands back. Really, it was quite comical how shocked her Dad’s face looked. His green eyes went the size of baseballs and his jaw dropped. 

“You… you do?” he asked in disbelief. 

“Yeah,” she continued on. “I think it’s brilliant! Inspired!” Dumbfounded, her Dad continued to stare at her in surprise.

“You seem to be taking this remarkably well,” he finally stammered out after what seemed like years of silence. Cosette feigned confusion. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” she asked him, hoping her pretend-bewildered expression would be enough to throw him off-kilter for what was coming next. If only Broadway and Aaron Tveit could see her now. "I mean, it’s a dream come true!”

“It is?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve always wanted an older brother!” If his previously-shocked face had been funny, it was nothing compared to the look of horror that now graced her Dad’s features. At any other given time when the situation wasn’t as serious as it was now, Cosette would have loved to take a picture of this moment. But right now, though she had a smile on her face, Cosette could not feel more horrible inside. The hole in her stomach was getting bigger and bigger, and she was afraid that if her Dad continued to speak, she would have to bolt towards the nearest toilet in order to avoid spilling out her guts on the wood of their beautiful house. 

“Eponine,” jolting out of her thoughts, Cosette looked back at her Dad, who had in the meantime gone very pale. “You’re misunderstanding the point." 

Cosette shook her head with a forced beam. "No I'm not! I understand you loud and clear. You're going to adopt Montparnasse!" Her Dad's face was ghastly as he ran a hand through his hair and muttered incoherently under his breath. 

"No, Eponine you really are misunderstanding. I’m not adopting Montparnasse.” Taking a step back, Cosette tried to brace herself for the inevitable words that she knew were about to come out of her Dad’s mouth. 

“You’re not?” Sighing, her Dad took a deep breath and looked into her eyes determinedly. 

“No, I’m not… I’m marrying him.” Though she knew he was going to say it eventually, the impact of the words her Dad had just spoken stung no less. Cosette’s breathing went shallow. 

“No Dad,” she whispered while shaking her head in denial, “you can’t.”

“Ep, listen…” 

“No!” Cosette couldn’t hold herself back anymore. Her sudden outburst made her Dad flinch. “Marrying him?!” she parroted back incredulously. “Are you insane? You can’t marry him! He’s young enough to be my brother! This is all so… _Mais tu plaisantes, j'espère! Montparnasse, ce n'est pas un homme pour toi! Mais c'est pas possible, je rêve. Qu'est-ce qui—”_

“Ep! Ep! Calm down —are you speaking French?” Her Dad was looking at her in utter shock. 

“I learned it at camp!” she spit out, until she caught a glimpse of her Dad’s face. He looked at her strangely. “What?” she demanded, too distressed to care about whether she had just given herself away.

“Nothing. You just… you remind me of…” her Dad trailed off. “Nevermind. Can we please just talk about this calmly? And in English too, if you don't mind?" 

"No!" At this point, Cosette knew she was only seconds away from an anxiety attack. In her head, she calculated the distance to the toilet upstairs near her room from where she was standing right now, and determined that if she made a run for it now she would make it. "Dad, you can't get married! It'll totally ruin everything!" Turning sharply on her heel, she bolted up the stairs, ignoring her Dad's cries of her name and heaved violently into the toilet bowl. As the contents of her stomach came rushing up, she couldn't help but let the tears stinging in her eyes come leaking down her face. 

_I wish Papa was here._

A pair of hands were holding back the hair from her face as she continued to throw up whatever she had previously eaten. After what seemed like forever, all that was left in her was spit, which she weakly tried to get rid of. Vaguely, Cosette was able to make out the sound of the flush as her mouth was wiped clean and she was lifted onto the edge of the bathtub. She opened her eyes and looked into Bahorel's kind face. He took her hands and brought it over to where she could feel his heartbeat, steady and calm and reassuring.

"Cosette I need you to breathe with me, alright?" He took an over-exaggerated breath, which she followed. Again. And again. A few minutes later, she felt her own breathing even out. Bahorel placed a burly hand on her cheek and smiled.

"You're very good at this," she remarked in a scratchy voice. 

"I've had plenty of practice from when your Papa was around," he responded. Quirking an eyebrow, he spoke again, "It seems as if he's passed on his little misfortune to you." She sighed. 

"My attacks aren't as usual or bad as Papa's," she admitted quietly, "but he's usually always there helping me through them. But he isn't here and I don't know what to do, Bahorel, I feel so useless, I mean Dad's just gonna get married without even seeing Papa again and I can't do anything about it and…" Cosette let everything she had been thinking of for the past few days come slipping out of her mouth, her breath beginning to rush once more. 

"Breathe, Cosette," Bahorel reminded her, taking her through the deep-breathing method once again. 

"Sorry," she mumbled, "there's just been a lot going on lately." 

"I can only imagine. How did you even end up here,'Sette?" At the calling of her nickname, Cosette smiled and hesitantly confessed the entire story of how she and Eponine met at camp. Once she told him about the piercings and the dyeing of her hair, the man let out a laugh. 

"I was wondering what happened to that beautiful blonde hair of yours." She flushed at the compliment. "But, really 'Sette, piercing your ears like that doesn't sound very safe." 

Laughing, she whacked him lightly on the arm. "You sound just like Uncle 'Ferre!" He grinned. 

"Your Uncle 'Ferre is a smart man and you'd do best to listen to him." When she finished telling him the tale, Bahorel had an amused glint in his eye. 

"So our little Eponine is all the way over in London attempting to masquerade as a proper British lady in front of your Papa?" Cosette nodded and giggled. "Oh man!" Bahorel let out a hearty laugh. "It's a wonder that your Papa still hasn't figured it out. Either that, or your sister's secretly discovered a new talent for acting." He left the room briefly, returning with a glass of water and the bottle of pills Cosette had thought she had done well enough to hide. 

“How did you find that?” she asked, dumbfounded. Bahorel shook his head at her and gave her a teasing smile.

“You’re not as subtle as you may think, kid.”

For a few blissful minutes, Cosette was able to forget everything that had just transpired downstairs as she sat in the bathroom, laughing along with Bahorel. It wasn't until a bell sounded from downstairs and a call for Bahorel that Cosette began to feel the past moment's slight euphoria ebb away. Bahorel closed his eyes in frustration. 

"It looks like your Dad's blushing groom-to-be summons me." He let out a frustrated sigh and got up to his feet, eyes softening when he looked down at Cosette. "Go out and get some fresh air kid," he gave her hands a squeeze. "I promise you'll feel better." Before he left, the man turned around one more time at the door frame. "Oh and by the way, your secret is safe with me. 

Cosette smiled. 

_______________________________________

Grantaire's head was spinning. And pounding. And really, just felt like death itself. In his head he knew that Eponine wouldn't take the news of his engagement to Montparnasse well, but really? She thought he was going to adopt him? The thought made him shudder as he settled himself in a lawn chair outside. And then there was the whole yelling-in-French business. Grantaire was quite sure there was no way anyone could learn a language as difficult and often times ridiculous as French (he thought about the word _oiseaux_ and the fact that approximately zero percent of the letters in the word were pronounced the way they should be) in the span of only eight weeks, but really that thought wasn't the most important thing running through his mind. With her sharp features and bright blue eyes lit ablaze as she rattled off whatever it was that she had said, Eponine had brought back a slew of memories of another fiery and passionate man who would often take to rambling in French when distressed or angry. She had reminded him of… 

No. He was marrying Montparnasse in a matter of two weeks. He was _not_ going to spend his time thinking about the man he had fallen in love with ( _perhaps forever,_ a whisper at the back of his mind said) and separated from twelve years ago. He shouldn't be thinking about him. He should be thinking about Montparnasse and the wedding. 

As if he had the power to summon beings out of the sheer strength of his will, Montparnasse showed up, complete in another one of those three piece suits he always insisted on wearing. 

"Hi doll," he greeted as he came up to stand by his chair. Grantaire looked up from where he had buried his head in his hands. 

"Hi." Montparnasse tilted his chin up so he could look him in the eyes better. 

"You look stressed," he noted as he made room for himself on Grantaire's lap, kissing him long and slow. "I know, how about a martini?" 

Grantaire paused. He really shouldn't be drinking in such a situation; that's exactly how one gets addicted to drinking, and he didn't want a repeat of his father, or his own past. He had quit drinking abusively twelve years ago for Eponine's sake; he didn't want her to suffer like he had with his own father.

_Eponine wasn't the only reason you quit though, was it? Admit it, you didn't want him to have to deal with a drunkard for a husband. You didn't want to disappoint him, so you had to watch how he cried after your therapy sessions, or how he held your hand just the slightest bit tighter when you were experiencing withdrawals. The worst was when he couldn't take it anymore and would lose his temper with you, which would later make him feel guilty about it, which made you feel guilty for making him feel guilty._

_You didn't just quit for Eponine. You quit for_ —

"How about a double," he muttered. Montparnasse smiled. 

"Coming right up." From his pocket, he produced a shiny silver bell, which he gave three sharp rings. "Bahorel!" he called. He turned to smile at him. "Don't you just love it? It's exactly what we need here, it's such a big house." He gave the bell another ring before calling out for the large man again. Bahorel appeared at the frame of the doorway. 

"You rang?" His voice dripped with sarcasm. 

"Two martinis please. And make Mr. Grantaire’s double," he ordered. Bahorel's mouth went flat. 

"I'm not your servant you know." On any other day Grantaire would gladly back him up and warn Montparnasse not to talk to his friend like that, but he was just so tired and really needed a drink right now. 

"Bahorel please," he pleaded, "I'm getting a migraine." 

The man grit his teeth. "Fine." He spun around, muttering a long string of curses under his breath that made Grantaire flinch. Taking in a deep breath, he turned to face Montparnasse. 

"I told Eponine." Montparnasse raised an eyebrow. 

"And?"

He sighed. "And she started yelling in French." He paused. "I didn't even know she knew French." _Maybe it's genetic,_ that tiny voice had started whispering again, _maybe she got it from_ —

_Shut up._

"I don't know what's gotten into her," he confessed. Montparnasse looked into his eyes sympathetically. 

"Oh, Rene. This reaction is totally classic." This elicited an uncertain look from Grantaire. 

"It is?" Montparnasse laughed. 

"Of course it is. It's ‘Daddy's-Getting-Remarried 101!’ I'd be worried if she didn't act this way. Look," he took his hands into his own, "why don't I go and talk to her, one ten to another?" He threw him a wink. Grantaire looked back at him and sighed. 

"In all honesty, I think she's a little sensitive about you right now," he revealed, as if this were any new information. 

"That's why I have to do it," Montparnasse explained, "we have to break the ice sometime." He stood up and off of his lap. "Wear your shirt like this," he added as he bent down to undo the first few buttons of his shirt. "I like it when I can see a little chest hair." 

_So did_ —

_Stop._

_______________________________________

"Mind if I join you?" A voice startled Cosette out of her thoughts. At Bahorel's suggestion, she had decided to get some fresh air, a decision which she had been momentarily enjoying as she sat inside the shade of the gazebo, looking out at the lovely landscape below and being able to clear her head of the worries of the past few days. However, she was now coming to regret her choice of stepping out as she gazed up into the cold, grey eyes of Montparnasse, realizing she was left all alone with the man she had quickly come to despise. 

Masking her contempt for him, Cosette let out a quiet _sure_ and tried to ignore him as he took a seat in front of her. 

"So I guess the engagement came as a bit of a shock, huh? 

_God, he won't even let me ignore him in peace,_ Cosette thought as she resisted the urge to roll her eyes and turned to face him.

"I think that’s a bit obvious, don’t you?" she replied, irritated. He gave her a small smile.

"I remember what it was like to be eleven." At this, Cosette did roll her eyes.

_Please spare me from your "back in my days" stories._

"It's a wonderful age," he carried on. "You're just starting to feel like an adult, and believe it or not, soon you'll understand love." She snorted.

"Me?" she asked sarcastically. "I don't think so. I don't even have my twelve year old molars yet." Montparnasse raised his eyebrows. 

"Well take it from someone who got their molars very early in life, being in love is a fantastic mystery that takes two passionate lovers—" 

"Look I don't mean to be jerky," Cosette cut him off, earning her a frown, "but I know exactly what mystery my Dad sees in you." Montparnasse's eye twitched. 

"You do?" Cosette gave him a once-over. 

"Please. You're young, beautiful, and sexy, and hey— the guy's only human right? But if you ask me, marriage is supposed to be based on a lot more than just sex, right?" Across from her, Montparnasse sat forward in his seat and narrowed his eyes at her. 

"Boy, your father underestimates you," he said, glaring at her.

Cosette smirked and leaned forward to meet his gaze. "But you won't, will you, Montparnasse?" she challenged. He studied her for a moment. 

"Being young and beautiful isn't a crime you know," he told her, clenching his jaw. "And as for your 4-1-1, I adore your father. He's the kind of man I always planned on marrying." Leaning back in his chair, he threw a vicious smile at her. "This is the real deal honey and nothing you do is going to come between us. Sorry angel, but you're no longer the light of your Dad's life. Get over it." Cosette wanted to do nothing more than leap across the gazebo and murder the man right then and there, but she thought better of it. After all, she had seen her Papa in action when he used simply the power of words to reduce his enemies to nothing. 

"If this is the 'real deal,' " she asked, gesturing with her fingers in mock quotation marks, "then my Dad's money has nothing to do with you wanting to marry him, right?" In front of her, Montparnasse curled his hands into fists as his voice lowered dangerously. He sat forward in his chair, eyes glittering with malice.

"Now you listen here sweetheart," the nickname held none of the affection that was evident when her Papa called her _sweetheart_ , "I am marrying your father in two weeks, so don't tangle with me anymore. You don't know what kind of power a man like me holds. You are way over in your head here. Is that clear?"

Never one to back down from a threat, Cosette leaned forward, burning her glare straight into Montparnasse's eyes as she smiled deviously. 

"Crystal." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a wrap for this week! Stay tuned for next week, where we'll watch as our hero Eponine faces a difficult decision, past thoughts are revealed, and Enjolras' life is thrown into a flurry of panic. 
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> -A
> 
> Also: OMG GUYS HAMILTON CAME OUT YESTERDAY ON DISNEY PLUS AND IT WAS SO PERFECT IT WAS EVERYTHING I'D EVER WANTED. LMM IS TRULY A BLESSING ON THIS WORLD. WE STAN.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our hero Eponine tackles a challenge head on, some past thoughts are revealed, and Enjolras is faced with a stressful situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear readers!
> 
> Not much to say for this chapter. I did have fun writing from Enjolras' perspective, though, so that's a thing. Enjoy!
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All the characters belong to Les Miserables, and the dialogue and plot belongs to The Parent Trap.
> 
> -A

Meals at her Papa’s place was quickly becoming one of Eponine’s favourite things in the world. Though she admitted it felt just the slightest bit odd to go without meat of any sort for so long, the atmosphere of eating at the table with everyone laughing and chatting merrily around her made her feel warm and giddy inside. And, it turns out Uncle Courf was an excellent cook. Not as skilled as Bahorel back at home, mind you, but great all just the same. 

As on most days, Uncle Courf and Uncle ‘Ferre, who had just finished a long shift at the hospital, were over at their house for lunch. While everyone else (who was of age, that is) had a healthy splash of wine inside their glasses, her Papa’s remained empty; in its place, rather, was a glass filled with regular water. This piqued her curiosity. 

“Papa, why don’t you have a sip of wine?” she suggested. He looked at her with furrowed eyebrows. 

“You know I don’t drink, Cosette,” he murmured. Her Papa didn’t drink? _How ironic,_ she thought, _that he had married a man who owns a vineyard. Or perhaps romantic_ — _opposites do attract._ Beside her, Uncle Courf snorted. 

“You don’t ‘don't drink,’ Enjolras,” he began, a grin spreading on his face, “it’s that you can’t drink,” he turned to look at Eponine, his smile growing more devilish. “Can’t stand the burn of alcohol. Not to mention he’s the biggest lightweight in all of human history.” Her Papa groaned. 

“Courf, please,” he begged with exasperation. 

“Come on, Enj, I think it’s time we regale dear Cosette with the infamous tales of your drunken misfortunes!” He threw his arms in the air, as if an actor in a performance. Her Papa glared at him while subtly trying to gesture towards Grandfather with his head. 

“Not in front of Papa,” he grit out as innocuously as possible. At the head of the table, her Grandfather rolled his eyes. 

“Oh please Julien, I already know enough about your little episodes. Who do you think was there tending to your bedside while you were out for the night?” Her Papa flushed. With a pointed look at Uncle Courf, he snatched his empty wine glass, pouring out a decent amount of the dark, red liquid into it. He raised the glass to his mouth and sipped. 

Then he came out sputtering and coughing, her Uncle Courfeyrac roaring with laughter, her Uncle Ferre watching with an amused smile faintly playing at his lips. 

“What’d I tell you?” Uncle Courf winked at her as she giggled. Eponine watched as her Papa made to hastily put the wine glass back on the table and push it away. Before he could do so, she decided to venture out what she was thinking. 

“May I have a sip?” she asked tentatively, drawing surprised looks from the people seated around her. Her Uncle ‘Ferre frowned.

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea—” he began to protest. 

“Oh come on ‘Ferre, don’t be a spoilsport! Let the kid have a bit, a small sip won’t kill her!” Uncle Courf exclaimed. Cautiously, her Papa handed the glass of wine over to her. 

“Alright, but I don’t think you’ll like it,” he told her. She peered into the drink and gave it a sniff, swirling it under her nose as the rest curiously watched her. Though he never let her have more than a few small sips, her Dad had taught her well enough how to identify a good wine. She took a sip and allowed the taste to settle.

“If you ask me,” she began analyzing, “the bouquet is a little too robust for a Merlot. Then again,” she added, “I’m a little partial to the softer California grape. What is it?” she nervously asked when she noticed her Papa peer at her with a weird sort of look in his eyes. 

“Nothing, you just…It’s nothing,” he looked away and toyed with the food on his plate absentmindedly. 

_Did I say something wrong?_ Eponine bit her lip worriedly, but had no time to dwell on the thought as the loud whirr of the fax machine went off in the other room. When her Papa started to rise out of his chair, Uncle ‘Ferre put a hand on his shoulder and seated him back down.

“I’ll get it, Enjolras. Stay here, and make sure to finish your water,” he ordered. Her Papa scowled at him. 

“It’s not like I’m going to collapse after one sip of wine,” he muttered as he went back to pushing his meal around his plate. Uncle Courf snorted and let out a silent _yeah you would_ under his breath, earning him a glare. 

A few moments later, Uncle ‘Ferre walked back, lingering at the doorway, his brows furrowed as he examined the sheet of paper he currently held in his hands. 

Eponine leaned sideways in her seat to get a better look. Her eyes caught a glimpse of a hastily-drawn dog that looked suspiciously like Javert. Above the sketch hung a speech bubble, the numbers _9-1-1_ scratched on in bold sharpie. Eponine’s eyes widened when she realized exactly who sent it, and, too distracted by her racing thoughts, didn’t realize her body tip sideways as she fell out of her chair and tumbled to the ground. Her Papa jumped out of his chair.

“Cosette! Are you alright?” His eyes were wide in panic. Her Uncle ‘Ferre dropped the sheet of paper, rushing to her side. He cursed. 

“See, Courf, this is exactly why she shouldn’t have had any wine! Cosette, can you tell me how you feel?” While she wanted to tell him that she had had plenty of wine before this and had come out fine, Eponine realized this wasn’t exactly the best time to do so. Instead, she took a breath and weakly smiled at her Uncle ‘Ferre.

“I’m fine, really. Guess I just had one sip too many.” She turned to look up into her Papa’s face, who seemed to still be quite alarmed. “You know, I think I could use a bit of fresh air. May I step outside?” His brows knit in concern. 

“Of course? Do you need me to come with you?” 

“No!” she bit back a curse as everyone’s eyes went wide at her unexpected outburst. “I mean, no,” she corrected in a calmer tone. “I’ll be okay. Just got a touch woozy, that’s all.” Hesitating slightly, she turned and subtly picked up the fax and made her way out the door, running towards the nearest pay phone. She wrenched the door of the phone booth open, furiously digging through her pockets for change.

“Hello?” she spoke into the phone. “Yes, collect call to America please—area code 707.” She impatiently twirled the coiled line of the device around her finger as she waited for the call to connect. “Hello?” she called once she heard the phone pick up on the other side. 

“Hello?” came her sister’s voice from the other end. “Eponine?” 

“What’s up”

“Oh Eponine I’m getting desperate!” her sister cried, “Dad’s getting married!” Eponine felt her stomach drop. 

“Married?!” she exclaimed. “What do you mean he’s getting married?!” 

“I mean ties and suits and the whole enchilada!” Her heart started hammering in her chest. Dad couldn’t be getting married! That just wasn’t possible!

“ _No,”_ she whispered in denial.

“Yes!” her sister yelled in distress. “The wedding is in two weeks! If we want to get Dad and Papa back together again, we need to do it fast.” Eponine felt her breath go shallow. There was too much happening way too fast. She was going to have to tell her Papa the truth, then they were going to have to fly out to California with him, then she was going to have to tell her _Dad_ the truth, then she was going to have to try and break up the wedding, _and then—_

“Eponine!” she winced as her sister yelled into the phone, trying to get her attention again. “Did you hear what I said?” She drew in a shaky breath. 

“Yeah, yeah,” she replied, “I heard you. Okay,” she drew in another breath, her mind spinning, “Papa and I were planning on walking to the soup kitchen to help out tonight. I’ll drop the bomb on him in the morning.” From the other side, her twin breathed out a sigh of relief. 

“Okay, thanks. And Eponine,” she paused, “please hurry.” 

“I will.” She muttered a soft goodbye and hung up. Turning on her heel, she rushed out of the phone booth and ran right into the man waiting outside. 

“Oh, sorry sir,” she mumbled, not bothering with her English accent. When she looked up, the blood drained from her face as she stared into a familiar face with round glasses perched around a pair of curious eyes. “Shit.”

“Hey,” Uncle ‘Ferre greeted softly. He crouched to meet her level. “Is there anything you want to tell me?” Eponine bit her lip nervously and looked away. 

“It’s kind of a long story,” she admitted in a small voice. He smiled at her and reached for her hand while standing back up. 

“Well it’s quite a large park,” he remarked gently, “and we’ve got a lot of time to spare.” He led her through the park slowly as Eponine finally gathered her courage and began to narrate her story. 

_______________________________________

Outside her Papa’s bedroom, Eponine paced nervously, chewing on the nails she had been so meticulous about keeping clean during her time here in the house. From the doorway, she could hear her Papa’s voice as he seemed to be arguing with someone on the phone in French. She knew that if there was any time to tell him, it was now, in the quiet comfort of his bedroom; besides, her sister was counting on her. Steeling her nerves, she raised her fist to knock on the door, faltering just before she let her knuckles touch. 

“You can do it, Ep. I promise, he won’t bite.” She looked up into Uncle ‘Ferre’s kind face and smiled shakily. After she had confessed to him the entire story, he had bought her an ice cream sundae loaded with whatever she wanted (something that, considering he worked at the hospital, surprised her) and assured her he wasn’t mad. The gesture made her smile, but he had given it to her in exchange for a promise that she would tell her Papa the truth by the end of the day. They had ended up cancelling their trip to the soup kitchen when Uncle ‘Ferre lied to him on her behalf, telling him that she wasn’t feeling very well. He spent the rest of the afternoon “looking after her” and learning more about Eponine, even going through the trouble of bringing up her dinner to her room.

With a reassuring smile and squeeze on the shoulder from Uncle ‘Ferre, she lightly rapped her knuckles on the bedroom door and stepped inside. 

_"Vous devez comprendre la nature de cette affaire Monsieur, je ne peux pas faire valoir mes points sans preuve concrète à présenter à la cour …"_ He glanced at her briefly and smiled before turning back to his conversation. _“Je comprends, mais il y a la vie des gens ici en jeu, et j’ai besoin de quelqu’un pour fournir de meilleures preuves si nous voulons gagner. Oui... Je l’examinerai plus demain. Je vous remercie. Au revoir.”_ As he quietly put away his cell phone on the table, he looked back at Eponine and smiled when she edged closer to the bed. 

“Hey, Cosette. How are you feeling?” She swallowed reflexively and looked at her feet, stammering out a nervous _fine._ “Did you need something?” At his words, her head snapped up to meet his eyes. Something about how blue they were seemed to calm her nerves down just the slightest. She nodded.

“Can I talk to you?” she asked in a small voice. He stared for a second before scooting over in his bed, making room for her to climb in beside him, where he took her smaller hands in his and squeezed gently.

“What did you want to tell me?” She looked at him and hesitated for a second. 

“Who were you talking to?” she deflected. Honestly, Eponine didn’t know why she was still stalling. She knew that she would have to tell him any minute now, but it seemed as if her heart wanted to cling to these last few precious seconds of ignorant bliss. 

“A man related to my current case,” he replied. “But that’s not important right now. Cosette, what do you want to tell me?” His eyes were so earnest, and Eponine was finding it difficult to continue to look at them as she thought about what she was going to say. 

_Deep breath, Eponine,_ she thought to herself. _You’ve got this._

Filling her lungs near to bursting with air, she quietly mumbled, “I may have to go out of town tomorrow.” Her Papa raised both his eyebrows, amused. 

“Go out of town?” he repeated, a smile playing at his lips. “And where, may I ask, do you have to go?” Biting her lip nervously, Eponine looked at her Papa for a few seconds more before diving under the covers of the bed. From above, she heard her Papa laugh, warm and bright as she hid herself from his view. “Cosette what are you doing?” he chuckled. “Cosette?”

“That’s where I have to go,” she blurted out. “I have to go and see Cosette.” 

She could still hear the amusement in her Papa’s voice as he responded, “Oh? And where might Cosette be, exactly?” he asked, no doubt still thinking that Eponine was joking. _Deep breath._

“In Napa California with her Dad, Rene Grantaire,” she confessed as she finally, after days of an aching tongue, dropped her British accent. All at once, the laughter died. A few beats of silence passed between the two, until Eponine finally decided to emerge from underneath the duvet. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face her Papa, who was staring at her in shock. 

“You’re…you’re not…” he whispered, continuing to stare. His mouth was hanging ajar and brows were furrowed. Then, he swivelled around in the bed to look at Uncle ‘Ferre, who was standing outside the doorway. The bespectacled man gave him a sideways smile and a nod. When he turned back to face her, he swallowed and opened his mouth again, trying to form words that just simply wouldn’t come to mind. “You’re not Cosette,” he finally managed to get out. Still lying in bed, Eponine nodded. 

“That would be correct,” she told him weakly. 

“But… but that would mean you’re —you’re…” His eyes caught onto her dark hair once again, this time with a different light of understanding in them. She waited patiently to let him come to the inevitable conclusion. “You’re Eponine,” he finished in amazement. As she sat up in bed, she shot him an unsure smile. 

“That would also be correct,” she admitted quietly. Her Papa continued to open and close his mouth, for once in his life at a loss for words. 

“How… ?” he began, voice shaky, unable to finish his trail of thought. It certainly wasn’t helping when he felt a lump in his throat and tears began to surface in his eyes. 

“We met at summer camp, Cosette and I, and we decided to switch places,” she said quickly, deciding the faster she told the story the less of a chance she would end up crying. “I’m sorry, but it’s just, I’d never seen you, and I had dreamed of meeting you my entire life. Cosette felt the same way about Dad, so we decided to just sorta switch lives.” She looked directly into her Papa’s eyes, hoping she could convey every possible emotion she was feeling with her own. “I hope you’re not mad at me,” she continued, tearing up a little, “because I love you so much, and I want you to love me as myself, not as Cosette.” She found herself being pulled into her Papa’s warm embrace; he rested his chin on her head and held her tight and close, and Eponine clung back just as fiercely. 

“Sweetheart I’m not mad at you,” he pressed a kiss to her head, “I could never be mad at you. I have loved you your entire life.” Through blurry tears, Eponine smiled. 

_He said he loved me! My Papa loves me!_ She felt as if she could stay in this moment forever, allowing her Papa’s warmth—so familiar, so sure—to envelope her. A sob from the doorway made the pair’s heads turn. They watched as an exasperated Uncle ‘Ferre tried in vain to quietly calm a hysterical Uncle Courf.

“This is the happiest day of my life,” he wept into Uncle ‘Ferre’s arms. Grandfather Valjean simply rolled his eyes and smiled knowingly at Eponine as he drew the door closed. She pulled out of his embrace to look her Papa in his eyes. He smiled back with nothing but love and pure adoration in his gaze. 

“So I guess you have to switch us back now, huh?” she asked quietly. He sighed.

“Well, legally, your custody belongs to your Dad and Cosette’s belongs to me,” he explained, rather unhappily. 

Eponine scoffed, “His kids and his kids. No offence, Papa, but this arrangement really sucks.” He gave her a soft smile. 

“I agree,” he said, “it is rather awful isn’t it? It’s prevented me from seeing you all these years. There hasn’t been a single day where I haven’t thought about you, love.” At his words, Eponine felt her heart expand to twice its size. 

“Well then I propose we fly to Napa, meet Cosette and Dad, and figure this whole thing out!” she declared valiantly. Her Papa looked at her in amusement. 

“I think you’re right,” he conceded as he pulled her back in for another hug. “Don’t worry about a single thing, Eponine. I’ll take care of it all. Everything is going to work out to be just fine.” 

_______________________________________

Everything was _not_ working out to be just fine. In fact, it was very much the complete opposite; Enjolras couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so distressed.

In terms of his most recent discovery, Enjolras was more than thrilled. He wasn't lying to Eponine when he told her that he had thought about her every day for the past eleven—almost twelve now—years. It had broken his heart to leave her when he divorced Grantaire, but that's just how the settlement had worked out. When he would look upon little Cosette, he would often think about the other girl he was forced to leave behind, and he would wonder how she was growing up. Now, reunited once more with his child, Enjolras had allowed himself to feel pure euphoria for the first few hours. 

That was, until he remembered what Eponine had said. 

_Well then I propose we fly to Napa, meet Cosette and Dad, and figure this whole thing out!_

The prospect of having to leave the familiarity of London, of flying to California, _of seeing Grantaire again_ —it was all too overwhelming and left his stomach turning in knots. He made as much clear the next morning as he attempted to pack his suitcase with the help of Combeferre and Courfeyrac. 

"I can't do this," he muttered anxiously as he ran a hand through his golden locks. "I can't do this! I just can't!" Beside him, Courfeyrac gave him a sympathetic look. 

"It's okay, Enjolras. I know you're probably feeling stressed, but it's really not that big of a deal."

"Not that big of a deal?" He threw him a look of incredulity. "I haven't heard from Rene Grantaire in—in almost twelve years and now suddenly I'm flying halfway across the world to go meet him! You call that nothing?" 

"Breathe, Enjolras," Combeferre walked over and put a steady hand on his shoulder, looking him in the eyes as he watched the younger man's breathing begin to even out a bit. Satisfied, he moved back to where he was sitting, before he hesitantly voiced what he had been waiting quite a while to say. "You know, maybe this is all happening for the best." Enjolras looked at him like he was crazy. 

"For the best? What do you mean?" 

"Well it's just that…" he hesitated, "maybe it'll finally allow you to get some closure on this whole Grantaire business." He stared at the bespectacled man. 

"Closure? I don't need any closure." Combeferre sighed. 

"I'm just saying, when you and Grantaire separated, neither of you really talked about your issues before you went through with it. It was all very hasty. Perhaps now that you're going back with a bit more maturity and cool headedness, you can talk out the whole situation and finally close that chapter for good." 

Enjolras looked away. It wasn't that he hadn't thought about what his friend was telling him, but rather he had been avoiding the topic. Combeferre wasn't wrong when he said that the divorce was done in quite a bit of a rush. Really, at this point, Enjolras' memories about the whole affair were starting to turn fuzzy, but he does know that it had ended in an at-the-moment heated argument. Many times when he had been left all lonesome to the suffocation of his inner mind, he had found his thoughts wandering to all the possible _what if_ scenarios he had constructed around the thought of what might have occurred if he and Grantaire had perhaps handled things more maturely. Maybe he still would have been waking up next to a set of green eyes that brightened whenever they would look upon him, or still feel the way his cheeks would heat up when the other man would reach a hand out against the wall behind him and lean down with a smirk to whisper wickedly into his ear. 

But then the realities of life would come crashing down around him as he realized that what he fantasized could never be, and that he should remain content with what he had and move on. For twelve years, he had been trying to move on, and had almost succeeded in doing so, when Grantaire just had to come crashing back into the picture again. 

"I'm not old enough for this!" He cried out, burying his head in his hands and groaning. That statement worried his two friends; since the time they had known him, which had been _forever,_ Enjolras had hated being told he wasn't old enough to understand or do certain things. It was simply his nature; a childhood of hardship had forced him to grow up much faster than he should have (although—and Enjolras would never admit this—he secretly enjoyed the way Courfeyrac and _especially_ Combeferre babied him) and so he thought it was his right to know what people deemed him "too young" to hear about. For him to say that he wasn't old enough was quite alarming. Courfeyrac pulled him into a gentle hug. 

"It's okay, E," he murmured above him. "We're going to be with you every step of the way." Enjolras looked back up, shifting his eyes from Courfeyrac to Combeferre, then back to Courfeyrac again, his eyebrows furrowing. 

"Oh no, I can't possibly ask that of you two," he shook his head, "I know how desperately they need you at the hospital Combeferre, and you've only just started working on that new case Courf…" 

Combeferre rolled his eyes at him. "Seriously, Enjolras, do you think we'd ever let you go alone? You'd run yourself into the ground without at least one of us looking after you and making sure you take your damned pills. So cut the bullshit—I'm coming." 

"And wherever my beloved goes, I follow," Courfeyrac threw him a wink as he gave his husband a playful kiss on the cheek. Enjolras smiled, but inside his heart panged a bit at the little display of domesticity and love between his friends. Though he was never jealous of his two best friends—hell he was the one that got them together; it was quite the story actually. They were eighteen and just starting university and he was a fourteen year old teenager frustrated with the constant "dancing around" that had been going on between the two for years, and so Enjolras, who had never really been such a patient man, had ended up snapping and simply locked the two in a closet until they _finally_ revealed their feelings for each other, and wasn't that a momentous day. Of course, Combeferre and Courfeyrac had gotten their revenge a few minutes later when they tackled Enjolras to the ground and tickled him mercilessly and… 

Where was he going with this? This had nothing to do with what he was originally thinking. Where was he? 

Oh right. 

—it hurt his heart just the slightest to see something so close that he couldn't have. He shook his head and banished the thought— _he was no longer in love and he never would be again! He was perfectly happy just the way he was thank you very much!_ —returning to the current task laid ahead of him and felt his previous anxiety come rushing back.

"Look, if the man didn't drive me so nuts, I'd still be married to him." He flushed a little as he realized what he had just admitted. "We just weren't made for each other. We didn't share the same passions or interests, and he never missed out on an opportunity to mock me for what I believed in. It wouldn't have ever worked out in any situation." At this point, Enjolras realized he was trying to convince himself more than Combeferre or Courfeyrac, but frankly, he was too incredibly stressed to care. "We did this so we would never have to see each other again, but here I am packing my bags…" he let out another frustrated groan as he jumped back up and started pacing again. Combeferre and Courfeyrac shared a worried look. 

"E—" 

"I mean look at me," his eyes were frantic. "Have you ever seen me like this?" He looked into the worried eyes of his friends. "On second thought, don't answer that." 

"Enjolras calm—" 

"What if he doesn't recognize me?" he cried in terror. "Why would he even bother remembering what I look like anyways? No, don't answer any of those either," he muttered, throwing a hasty look at his friends. He continued to pace the floor, breathing quickly becoming shallow and quick. 

"Enj—" 

"Really, what if—" 

"ENJOLRAS ENOUGH!"

His head snapped up, eyes wide at Combeferre's sudden outburst. It was only then that he realized that Courfeyrac had disappeared, leaving him to wonder where he had gone. A few seconds later, he found the answer to his question as the usually-vibrant man walked back towards him with a bottle of pills in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He shifted his eyes to look at Combeferre, who had in the meantime lowered his voice to a considerably more gentle level, murmuring encouraging words, and had taken his hands and lifted them towards the older man's chest, forcing him to breathe in rhythm with Combeferre's over-exaggerated breaths. When he began to feel calmer, Combeferre let go of his hands and lifted a palm to cup his cheek. 

"You're going to be fine Enjolras. Everything will be fine. Courfeyrac and I will be with you the entire time if you need support. I understand this is quite a bit for you to deal with, but I need you to calm down and think things through with a cool head." At his words, Enjolras smiled. He couldn't imagine what good he must have done in life to deserve such good friends like Courfeyrac and Combeferre. Really, at this point they were no longer just his friends. 

They were his family. 

After having an anxiety pill and water almost-forcibly shoved down his throat by a rare no-nonsense Courfeyrac, Enjolras had been seated back down across from where his two friends could see him clearly. He cleared his throat. 

"So… so Eponine said he was a… a hunk?" His cheeks flamed red at the words. "He was rather dishy," he admitted quietly. "He had this smile that made me go weak in the knees and a sharp tongue that never ceased to leave me breathless." Only when Courfeyrac started to snigger did he realize the several meanings his last statement could have held, and his face blushed darker with mortification. "Shut up!" he hissed. "You know I didn't mean it like that!"

"I'm all set, Papa," a voice came from behind him. He jumped in his seat and yelped when Eponine had come around to face him. He couldn't let her see him like this! All flustered and panicked and pale—he had to reassure her that he was alright with this and that she didn't need to worry about anything, that he alone could take care of all the work that lay ahead of them. 

"Eponine!" he exclaimed, praying to whoever was up there that the blush had left his cheeks (it didn't; quite on the contrary, it seemed as though his face was flaming up even more.) "That's great sweetheart, I'm almost done too." The girl frowned at him as she glanced in the direction of his empty suitcase. 

"Papa, you haven't even started," she pointed out. He let out a nervous laugh as he looked back at the suitcase that seemed to taunt him. 

"Oh right, sorry." In front of him, Eponine laid the back of her hand gingerly across his forehead. 

"Are you alright, Papa?" He pulled away and avoided her gaze. 

"Of course I'm fine. God, you've been spending too much time with your Uncle 'Ferre," he muttered. The aforementioned man stood up and reached a hand for his shoulder. 

"Why don't Courf and I do the packing for you instead, Enjolras? You go on and get yourself something to eat. Something _proper_ to eat," he added threateningly. Enjolras gave him a weak smile which he didn't return. Sighing, he turned back to face Eponine. 

"So did you talk to your Dad?" He ran another anxious hand through his hair as he waited for her to answer. 

"Oh yeah, I just hung up. He's totally anxious to see you." Enjolras paled. 

"Anxious-nervous, as in he's completely dreading it, or anxious-excited, like he's actually looking forward to it?" he asked (anxiously.)

Eponine gave him a dazzling smile. "Definitely anxious-excited." she replied brightly. The thought that _Grantaire_ was excited to see him made his head spin."He'll meet us tomorrow at the Stafford Hotel in San Francisco," she continued, oblivious to her Papa's inner turmoil. 

_Tomorrow?_ This was all moving too fast too quickly for Enjolras. Tomorrow was only in 24 hours! It was only 24 more hours until he would be seeing Grantaire again!

"Well," he forced out a chuckle, "isn't that incredibly soon." Doing his best to make sure his voice was composed enough to seem calm, he told Eponine "Do you think you could run down and grab our tickets from your Grandma?" _Wait no. That doesn't sound right. Grandma?_ "I mean father!" He added hastily. "Do you think you could run down and grab our tickets from your _Grandfather._ " He let out a breath. Even talking, which had always been Enjolras' strong point, was becoming more and more difficult in the face of this situation. 

_Breathe, Enjolras._

Eponine let out a bright _okay!_ as she walked out the room, pausing slightly when Courfeyrac whispered something in her ear that made her shove him and hiss a quick _shut up!_ He peered curiously at him. 

"What did you tell her?" he asked him in a daze. Courfeyrac waved his hand dismissively.

"Nothing that needs attention," he replied. "What does need attention, however," he continued, "is your dressing situation." 

"My dressing situation?" Courfeyrac sighed dramatically.

"Enj, honey, let's be honest. Fashion has never been your strong suit." When he opened his mouth to argue, Courfeyrac shushed him. "Luckily," he winked at him, "it's always been mine!" As he began to rifle through his closet, he called out to Enjolras, "God! You are so lucky to have me as your best friend. Seriously, Enj, what would you do without my amazing fashion advice?" He rolled his eyes, but more in a fond way rather than an annoyed one. "Ah ha!" Courfeyrac emerged from Enjolras' closet, a victorious smile on his face. "Now," he began, "if I were seeing my ex after almost twelve years of time apart, and I had your face, body, and hair, I would wear this little baby of an outfit." Between Courfeyrac's eager face and Combeferre's amused expression, Enjolras couldn't find it in his heart to say no. 

"Alright," he said, swallowing, "give it here." 

_______________________________________

As she turned to leave the room, Uncle Courf tutted and lowered his voice just enough that her Papa couldn't hear. 

"Liar liar pants on fire," he teased. 

"Shut up!" she hissed back. Eponine had a plan, and nothing would ruin it. 

_______________________________________

Throwing her arms around her Grandfather for what she desperately hoped wasn't the last time, Eponine tried her best to commit this moment to memory. Her Grandfather held her back just as fiercely.

"Bye, Grandpa," she murmured. He pulled back to cup her cheek. 

"Bye, Eponine." He placed a kiss on her cheek, which made her smile. 

"You're coming to Napa for Thanksgiving, right?" She asked him anxiously as she recalled what he had promised her yesterday night at dinner. He beamed. 

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, _mon Coeur."_ Eponine smiled at the nickname she had so grown to love. Rising on her tiptoes, she pressed a feather- light kiss to her Grandfather's cheek. As she turned and walked towards the car, he called out to her again. "Oh and tell your Dad I said hello! I always liked that man! Treated your Papa perfectly! He was a true gentleman!" Beside her, her Papa's face erupted into a violent blush. _This trip must really have put him on edge_ , she thought, _if all it takes is a couple of words about Dad for him to get so flustered when he's usually so poised and articulate._

Eponine laughed at her Grandfather's words and promised to greet her Dad on his behalf. Just before she stepped into the car, however, her smile faltered as she looked upon the house in front of her. _God I hope this isn't the last time I come back here._ She found herself crossing her fingers and muttering a little string of _please_ s under her breath. 

"Eponine!" her Papa gestured for her to get inside the car. With one last look at the house, Eponine steeled her nerves and got inside the vehicle. 

_I'll do you one better, Grandpa,_ she thought as she remembered her past promise to greet her Dad on his behalf. _I'll bring him back so you can greet him yourself_ — _this time as his Father-in-law._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I'm so sorry if the French I've written in is grammatically incorrect or wrong. I'm still learning the language and am not completely fluent in it yet. 
> 
> That's all for this week! Stay tuned for next week, where we'll see reunions galore: twins, friends, and perhaps even lovers.
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> -A


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunions reunions reunions! Our twin heroes are reunited at the Stafford Hotel where Enjolras decides a hideout is necessary, Grantaire receives the biggest shock of his lifetime, and the twins are forced to reveal the real reason why their Papa was brought here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear readers!
> 
> I had fun writing this chapter, so I think you people will have fun reading it! Not much else to say.
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All the characters belong to Les Miserables, and the dialogue and plot belongs to The Parent Trap.
> 
> -A

"Now be nice Daddy," Montparnasse murmured to his father as his parents and he waited for Grantaire to show up at the lavish lobby of the Stafford hotel. "He's everything you've wanted for your little boy," his smile turned wicked, "and millions more." His father's lip curled. 

"Then you know I'll be nice." 

_______________________________________

Upon seeing Montparnasse's face when the man's eyes fell on the dog, who had seemed to have fallen in love with her once she had confessed her secret to Bahorel—maybe the dog was all about making sure truth and justice prevailed—Cosette knew she had made the right choice in bringing him along. His right eye twitched as he walked up to the group. 

"Hi, darling," he gave what he clearly thought was a winning smile to her Dad as Cosette rolled her eyes. Her Dad smiled back. 

"Hi."

"Bahorel, Eponine," he finally turned to address them, "and Javert! What in the world are you doing here?" he exclaimed in mock joy. He grit his teeth in a fake smile as he turned once more to her Dad, "A dog at the Stafford, honey?" Her Dad shot him an apologetic smile. 

"Eponine begged me," he told him, sorry. Montparnasse looked at her with a hard stare only masked by a fake smile. Cosette stared back just as fierce and unrelenting. 

"You are such a softie Rene," he replied, still having not taken his eyes off of Cosette. When he shifted his eyes to look at Javert and tried to pet him, the dog attempted to bite him. He jumped back with a gasp. 

"Good doggie," she heard Bahorel whisper quietly. Cosette bit back a laugh. "So, Montparnasse, these the folks?" Bahorel gestured to the old couple standing behind him. 

"Yes," he recovered smoothly. "Mother, Father," _ugh he even uses stuffy names to refer to his parents,_ "I want you to finally meet the love of my life, Rene Grantaire." Hands were shaken all around. "And this," Montparnasse started once more, gesturing to Cosette, "is his adorable daughter, Eponine. We have her to thank for this little prenuptial get together, it was her idea." He gave her an over saccharine smile she itched to wipe off his face. His parents looked down on her. 

"We have heard nothing but good things about you, young lady," his father said. Beside her, her Dad beamed. Next, Montparnasse's mother bent down to look at her at eye level. 

"Hello, pet." _Pet?_ "You may call me Auntie Jondrette!" 

Cosette wrinkled her nose. 

_______________________________________

Eponine couldn't believe her luck. 

Apart from that one incident at the dinner table, she had not once seen her Papa drink. She had only, at the insistence of her Uncle Courf, been, as he put it, "regaled with the tales of her Papa's drunken misfortunes," most of the stories of which she had promptly dismissed, unable to believe her Papa could ever be so out-of-control. 

Now, as she sat in a taxi with a very-drunk Papa, who was trying to be controlled, in vain, by a distressed Uncle 'Ferre and Courf on either side, Eponine wished she could rewind the clock just a little back to when her Papa had ordered the first of many vodkas aboard the plane. 

_People do this when they're nervous, right Eponine?_ he had asked anxiously.

 _Oh yeah, a little alcohol can be just the sort of liquid courage some people need in order to face their fears._ When she had seen how distressed her Papa had looked as he repeatedly ran his hand through his hair, she had at the time thought that perhaps a little drink wouldn't be too bad. _But only a little,_ she had added as a warning. She said nothing as she had watched him order his first drink.

Rookie mistake. 

Perhaps things would have been a lot better if her Uncle 'Ferre had just sat beside him instead. Because their tickets had been booked so last-minute, they weren't able to find seats together. At first, Uncle 'Ferre had offered he sit with her Papa, but he had been quite adamant in wanting to sit with Eponine, telling him that _he wanted to spend as much time with his daughter as possible,_ and while the thought warmed Eponine's heart, she quickly realized she had made a horrible mistake as she watched her Papa down drink after drink with no one to stop him. Uncle 'Ferre and Uncle Courf were seated far away where they couldn't keep an eye on the younger man, and she was left to deal with her horror as she realized that they were going to end up meeting Cosette and Dad like this. 

"Please just drink the water, Enjolras," she heard her Uncle Courf plead in the back seat. When the plane landed and her two uncles found their best friend in such a state, she couldn't help but stammer out a long string of apologies, ready for a scolding. Instead, Uncle 'Ferre simply sighed and reassured her it was in no-way her fault, and that he shouldn't have given into her Papa's wishes and sat with him. 

It still didn't stop her from feeling guilty though. 

"No!" her Papa exclaimed, making her flinch up in the passenger seat next to the driver. "I don't wanna!" She watched as he turned to face Uncle 'Ferre. "You know, before this, I never tasted vodka in my life before," he slurred out, tapping Uncle Ferre in the face. "It's quite a remarkable experience," he continued, "once you get past the burn, it tastes amazing!" He threw out his hands and smacked her Uncles in the face. "Oops!" he giggled. Eponine closed her eyes. 

_Great,_ she thought, _my Papa is giggling._

As the car came to a halt, she stepped out quickly and handed a bundle of notes out to the taxi driver, who looked glad to be ridden of the drunken party. When she turned around, she was met with the scene of Uncle Courf trying to coax an unwilling Papa out of the car. 

"Come on, Enjolras, it'll be fine. I'm here. Combeferre's here. We'll be with you one hundred percent of the time." 

"No."

"Enjolras…" 

"No." Sighing, Eponine looked into the car where her Papa sat clutching at Uncle 'Ferre's form like he was a lifeline. The way he had curled his body inwards towards the older man made him look rather like a small child, and if the situation weren't so dire, Eponine would have liked to take a picture of him to show her sister. She bent into the car and looked him in the eyes.

"Papa," she pleaded quietly, "please? Do it for me." Something seemed to change in her Papa's alcohol-dazed eyes, because suddenly he was forcing one foot in front of the other as he stumbled out of the car and into Uncle Courf's arms, who caught him just in time. He pushed him away and swayed slightly as he tried to stand upright on his feet by himself. 

"Alright," he mumbled, "let's rock and roll." Behind him, Eponine face palmed. 

"I am in so much trouble here." 

_______________________________________

"The room is perfect for the wedding; not too big, not too cramped. Not that I don't like the idea of holding the wedding at the house, it's just that…" Montparnasse droned on and on and Cosette was getting impatient. She really couldn't care less about what the man was saying, especially since she knew that she was going to be meeting her Papa and sister later today. It seemed, however, that Montparnasse had finally finished talking about whatever it was he was talking about, because he clapped his hands and looked around breathlessly. "Alright then," he said, "I've already checked us in. Let's freshen up and then rendezvous for lunch." When everyone nodded he smiled, "Great. Meet you in ten then." With a pointed look at Cosette, he grabbed her Dad's hand. "Oh and sweetheart?" He lowered his voice so Cosette could just barely hear what he was saying. "I was thinking we could go take a look at the honeymoon suites. I hear they are to _die_ for." He kissed her Dad long and slow in front of her, effectively turning her vision red. Her Dad, oblivious to the silent war going on between the two, snaked an arm around Montparnasse's waist and turned them around to walk across the lobby. The man threw her one last smirk over his shoulder before he huddled closer to her Dad. 

_______________________________________

It was a miracle, really, that her Papa was able to make it into the building without passing out right then and there outside the spinning doors. With either of his arms being supported by her Uncles, he had somehow been able to check them all into the hotel, quietly muttering something about _bourgeoisie institutions_ and _the damned American wealth gap._

Stumbling along with her Uncles, they had just made it into the elevator when he patted his pockets and cursed. 

"Whoops. Forgot my wallet," he slurred. In a flash, he had stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby again, alone. Eponine's eyes widened and she took a step forward. 

"Wait, no, Papa!" 

Too late. The elevator doors slammed shut and began to pull up, leaving a very shocked Eponine in the elevator with equally distressed Uncles 'Ferre and Courf.

_______________________________________

When Javert gave a great tug, Cosette was forced to follow as she ended up breaking into a run, Bahorel fast behind her. 

"Javert!" she exclaimed. The dog was barking like mad. "What's wrong?" The dog strained against his collar as he tried rushing towards the nearly-closed elevator. Inside, Cosette spotted three very familiar figures: Uncle 'Ferre, Uncle Courf and… Eponine! But wait, where was Papa? 

Javert gave a massive tug as he tried to leap into the now-shut elevator and slammed into the door. Bahorel kneeled on the floor and pet the whimpering dog. Cosette watched, concerned until she felt someone bump into her. She was about to snap at the person to watch where they were going, but when she turned around her eyes went wide. 

"Papa?" she exclaimed in astonishment. There in front of her stood the man she had last seen before she left for camp, which was ages ago now. He closed his eyes and stumbled closer. 

"Oh sweetheart, you didn't have to wait for me," he murmured. "I could have found the room myself." Cosette caught a whiff of alcohol on her Papa's breath. 

_Is he drunk?_ She shared a nervous glance with Bahorel, who had spun around at Cosette's words, though still remaining hidden from her Papa's view. 

"Besides," he continued, the slur a lot more pronounced in his words. "I think I need to get a bit of fresh air. Go on, sweetheart, I'll meet you upst… upstai… UPSTAIRS!" he suddenly exclaimed, drawing the attention of nearby onlookers. She shot them an apologetic smile. He gave her a curious look. "I like that jacket by the way," he reached out and ran a hand over the material of the arm sleeve. "Have you been wearing that for the whole flight?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned back around and started marching across the lobby floor. 

"Papa watch out!" Cosette watched in horror as he just narrowly avoided colliding with a bellhop driving a cart of luggage. Turning back around, he grinned and shot her a thumbs up before stumbling back to wherever it was he was going. Cosette face palmed and turned to look at Bahorel. "He's drunk!" she cried in disbelief. "I have never, ever in my life once seen him drink even a drop of wine and he picks today to show up completely out of it!" Bahorel shot her a sympathetic look as he steered her by the shoulders towards the elevator.

"Look kid, just do what the man says and meet him UPSTAIRS!" 

_______________________________________

Enjolras didn't know what he was doing here.

Actually scratch that. 

He didn't know what he was doing with his _life_ at the current moment. Stuck stumbling around some rich, bourgeoisie establishment like a drunken fool, trying desperately to find some open space so he could just _breathe._

In his head he admitted that drinking so much vodka maybe wasn't the brightest idea he's had. But then again, flying over 3269 miles to see his ex certainly wasn't up in his list of _good ideas_ either. 

Everything was too loud and too bright and the floor beneath him was starting to feel like the lapping waves of the sea. Enjolras had thought that because he was older and had drank before, he might have been a little more used to the feelings the intoxicating drink brought on, but as he stood alone in the lobby, dazed and confused, he couldn't have been more wrong. A loud _ding_ had Enjolras whirling around to try and pinpoint where the noise came from. He watched as a couple in the elevator wrapped themselves around each other. The taller man's face was hunched over as he nuzzled his head into his lover's embrace. Then he looked up, and Enjolras' eyes clashed with a very familiar pair of sparkling green eyes. 

_Grantaire._

The aforementioned man blinked at him. Then he removed his hands from where he had previously placed them on currently-unnamed man and rubbed at his eyes. 

Then his expression went from blank to confused to downright shocked. Grantaire's eyes went wide and his jaw hung slack as he gaped at Enjolras, who had no idea what to do in such a situation. Nothing he had ever read in law could have prepared him for such a moment, and it wasn't helping that the alcohol was clouding over all the sensible parts of his brain. 

So he remembered the advice of a plucky cartoon penguin he recalled Cosette would watch on tv when she was little and he smiled and waved. 

At this point, the elevator door had begun to slide closed, but it seemed as if Grantaire hadn't had his fill of looking at Enjolras yet, because he stuck an arm out against the wall beside him and leaned and leaned and leaned trying to get a better glimpse of the blond man. He continued to _lean until_ —

The elevator door closed. 

And Enjolras continued to smile and wave. 

_______________________________________

Enjolras was furious. 

He was currently barrelling down one of the hallways—he didn't know which, he had to ask for a couple to press the floor number in for him—and was muttering a long line of curses he would have never dared to mutter in front of his children. 

"Eponine Grantaire!" he roared. In front of him, two identical girls appeared, expressions of guilt gracing both of their features. Enjolras groaned and put his head in his hands. "Don't do this to me," he pleaded, "I'm already seeing double." Distantly, his brain registered the sound of shuffling feet, and he looked back up. 

"It's me, Papa," the girl said, "Cosette." He stared at her for a moment before dropping into a crouch, holding his arms open for her to step into, which she gladly did. 

"Oh Cosette!" he murmured. "You look wonderful sweetheart," he noted the fact that the real Cosette also had dark hair and double-pierced ears, which meant Eponine wasn't lying when she had told him about all the things she and Cosette did at camp to look and act like each other. Speaking of Eponine, he opened his eyes and looked over to where she was standing a few feet away awkwardly. He smiled and opened his arms again, inviting her in to share the hug. She beamed and rushed in, eagerly hugging him and her sister back. After a few moments, he drew back and gazed at them both. 

"Look at my girls," he said breathlessly as he looked back and forth between them. They shared a knowing smile with each other. "It's so wonderful to see you together like this," he beamed. Then he remembered the earlier elevator incident, and he felt his smile falter. "But how could you do this to me?" he demanded. The two looked away guiltily, and he felt his anger ignite once more. Before he could open his mouth once more, however, he heard a booming voice speak above him. 

"Sorry to interrupt, but might I suggest we carry this little meet-and-greet inside where it's more private?" Enjolras looked up into a large face with kind eyes. When he stood up he felt positively puny compared to the man in front of him, but he wasn't intimidated. No, he knew this man very well. He had first seen him in law school when he was just an eighteen year old freshman who had no idea how to get around campus and probably would have ended up mugged if not for the kindness of a twenty-two year old senior student who insisted he wasn't even into the subject, muttering something about ' _never a lawyer_.' “Hey, Chief," the man greeted, "I'm not really sure if you remember me but—" 

"Bahorel!" He threw his arms around the significantly larger man, something he knew he would be absolutely mortified about when he would look back on the moment more sober, but right now, he needed something to ground him, and the memories of a gentle giant helping him through his anxiety attacks twelve years ago is what first came to mind when he had seen his face again, and he needed that little touch of reassurance. Bahorel chuckled as he looked down into Enjolras' face.

"I missed you too, Chief." 

_______________________________________

Now in the comfort of his hotel room, Enjolras was being forced to lie on the couch as Courfeyrac smoothed a damp cloth over his head, Combeferre watching him carefully to make sure he didn’t end up driving himself into another anxiety attack. By the door, Bahorel stood with his arms crossed, observing Enjolras as if he may fall apart at any moment.

In short, Enjolras felt as if he were being treated like a fragile glass doll, and he hated it. 

“One of you!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. When Combeferre glared at him, however, he sheepishly lowered them back down across his chest. His two daughters had their heads bowed in guilt as they stood in front of him. He swallowed reflexively. “I’m not really sure which one to be honest,” he muttered under his breath, “but one of you told me your Dad knew I was coming today!” His mind flashed back to the memory of seeing Grantaire in the elevator after so long, and he clenched his eyes shut in embarrassment. “Well I’m extremely pleased to tell you,” his voice dripped with sarcasm, “that the man I saw in the elevator had no idea I was on the same planet, let alone the same hotel!” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tried in vain to stave off the headache he knew would be in full force once he reached his hangover. Above him, Courfeyrac smiled sympathetically and carded a gentle hand through his curls. 

“You saw Dad already?” Cosette piped up. He looked at her and sighed. 

“Yes, I saw him. The man went completely ashen, as if I was the bloody Ghost of Christmas Past!” The two girls tried to smile at him apologetically, but Enjolras was having none of it. The events of today thus far have just been _too much_ for him to deal with. Pitching his eyes up to the ceiling, he continued, “I will say that I’ve pondered quite a few times what it would be like to see your Dad after all this time,” he admitted quietly. At the girls’ hopeful grins, he gave them a flat look. “But me waving like a mindless idiot while he has his hands wrapped around another man is not exactly what I had in mind!” The hand in his hair became more insistent in its petting, and, against his coherent thoughts, Enjolras sighed in content as he felt his eyes start to droop close. 

_No._ There was still one burning question that lingered in the back of his mind, and he was _not_ going to sleep without learning its answer. Taking a deep breath, he forced his eyes to stay open and lowered his voice to what he hoped was a steady level. 

“I’ve been lied to by my own children.” In front of him, Cosette and Eponine flinched. He stared them down. “I’d like to know why.” Suddenly, the hand in his hair stilled as Courfeyrac jumped up from his seat. 

“You know, I think I’m going to go check out the mini-bar situation here!” 

“I’ll come with you!” Combeferre exclaimed. Wait. _Combeferre_ wants to go check out the mini bar with Courf? Something wasn’t right. 

“You could use an expert’s opinion on the best types of beer,” Bahorel added hastily. As the three of them turned to leave, Enjolras called out. 

“Wait!” The figures halted in their tracks, turning around slowly with looks rather akin to the expressions of guilt Eponine and Cosette wore. He sat up and narrowed his eyes at the group. “Does everyone here know something I don’t?” Desperation was laced heavily in his voice as he found that no one was willing to look him in the eyes.

Not even Combeferre. 

A heavy silence settled over the room. The girls exchanged a look between the two of themselves, seemingly having a wordless conversation with only their eyes. Cosette cautiously took a step forward and grabbed one of his hands in her own.

“Papa, Dad’s getting married,” she told him gently. Enjolras’ felt his heart sink. 

Wait. 

No he didn’t. He wasn’t in love with Grantaire anymore. The man could do whatever he wanted, kiss whoever he wanted, _marry whoever he wanted._ It didn’t make a difference to Enjolras. He definitely didn’t feel a part of his heart, which he had so carefully kept stowed away for the past twelve years, shatter into pieces. 

He definitely wasn’t heartbroken. 

His eyebrows knit together. “Okay…?” he trailed off. 

“To a man worse than Hans of the Southern Isles!” Cosette cried. “He’s absolutely, positively, horrible! We can’t let Dad go through with it!”

“He’s not the right man for Dad, Papa,” Eponine stepped forward to support her sister by her side. “We can’t let this wedding take place. And the only way he won’t marry him is if…” she hesitated. “You tell him,” Eponine elbowed her sister and gestured to their Papa. Cosette twisted her hands nervously. After a moment of silence, she took a breath and looked into his eyes sincerely. 

“Is if he sees you again,” she finished. He looked between the two girls helplessly. 

“No,” he whispered out as his mind pieced it all together. “You’re trying to set me up with your Dad, aren’t you?” The twins shot him sheepish smiles.

“Yeah,” Eponine admitted, “but only because we know you still love him.” Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the three adults who had otherwise remained suspiciously quiet during the entire conversation subtly trying to leave the room again. He clenched his jaw. 

“Hold it.” The figures stilled once more and turned to look at him, this time in the eyes, which made the guilt they held a lot more visible. “You three knew about this, didn’t you?” The trio exchanged uneasy looks as he heard Courfeyrac and Combeferre mutter something about _Eponine may have told us a little something about this_ and Bahorel stammered out what sounded like _Cosette roped me into the whole plan._

Enjolras allowed his eyes to sweep over the inhabitants of the room; Cosette and Eponine had a look of nervous hope in their faces, and the trio of adults watched his movements carefully. Despite the fact that he knew it would give Combeferre a heart attack, he rose to stand on his two feet, his legs shaky and threatening to give out underneath him. 

“Let me make this very clear,” his voice was dangerously quiet, “Gran— your Dad and I have absolutely nothing in common…anymore,” he added the last part hesitantly. That was the whole reason they separated all those years ago, right? 

Cosette and Eponine looked ready to protest at this, but with a firm hand held up, he continued, “Besides, he seems extremely content with his fancy, three-piece-suit-wearing fiancé.” Enjolras prayed to whoever was up there that his voice did not reveal the bitter taste those words left on his mouth. When he closed his eyes, he missed the completely unimpressed looks his daughters shared between themselves. “I am here for one purpose and one purpose only, and that is to switch the two of you back.” With a glare, he looked down at the twins. “I want you to explain this entire situation to your Dad so we can do what we have to do and be done with it. Understood?” 

Cosette and Eponine dropped their eyes to the floor and nodded. 

_______________________________________

As Cosette walked through the hallway of the tenth floor of the hotel, she couldn't help but sigh in frustration. It was so clear that her Papa still loved her Dad; no one had missed the heartbroken look that had flashed across his face when they delivered the news of their Dad's engagement. Still, any time she or Eponine tried to hint at talking about it with him, he would always deflect and avoid the topic. Their latest attempt left her excusing herself for a bit of fresh air in order to clear her head of all the pent up frustration of her Papa's stubbornness. Lost in thought, Cosette rounded the corner and ran smack into a broad chest. 

_Man, I just cannot stop running into people today,_ she thought as she raised a hand to her temple to try and ward off the dizzying feeling currently rushing through her head. A familiar pair of hands gripped her shoulders. 

"Eponine!" Cosette looked up into the green eyes of her Dad. He looked anxious, and she noticed that he now smelled as if he had recently bathed in the liquid of one of his more expensive colognes. 

"Hey, Dad," she feigned her American accent, "what's up?" The man stepped back and ran a hand through his wild head of dark curls. 

"Not much," he muttered under his breath. "Just going down to see the lobby." Cosette raised an eyebrow at this, which he promptly ignored. "Hey, could you do me a favour? Do you think you could look after Montparnasse for me?" While Cosette wanted to do nothing more than leave Montparnasse stranded in a desert alone, she figured it was best to keep this sentiment away from her Dad, who she had never seen this stressed before, and that included the time she told him she thought he was going to adopt Montparnasse. 

"Sure, Dad," she grit out. He gave her a relieved smile. 

"Thanks, Ep." Once she had walked a sizable distance away from him, Cosette heard her Dad call out to her once more. She turned back around, only to see him jogging back up to her. "Hey Ep," he panted, "how do you think I look?" He spread his arms, showing off the nice green vest he was wearing atop a dress shirt. "Nice? Presentable? Not too old?" All of a sudden, her Papa's earlier words hit her like a freight train. 

_Yes, I saw him. The man went completely ashen, as if I was the bloody Ghost of Christmas Past!_

Her Dad had changed from his previous outfit of simply a dress shirt over top a pair of jeans and vans, into a newly pressed shirt coupled with a vest that made his eyes pop, while wearing formal dress pants and black shoes.

Her Dad smelled like he had been doused in Ralph Lauren. 

Her Dad was asking her if he still looked young. 

_Her Dad was going down to the lobby, where her Papa claimed to have first seen him today._

God, she needed to tell Eponine about this as soon as possible. 

Biting back a laugh of victory, Cosette leaned against the wall and appraised her Dad's features. She smirked. 

"You look fab, Dad," she told him, "young and hip," she declared, punctuating the words. He grinned at her. 

"Thanks, Ep, you're the best." With that, he barrelled down the hallway and towards the elevator, leaving Cosette sighing in exasperation against the wall. 

_Why won't they just admit they're still in love with each other?_

_______________________________________

Eponine was wandering around the lobby of the hotel after having let herself out of the room when her Uncles and Bahorel began fussing over her Papa, trying to force him to sleep. She was enjoying her exploration time, as it gave her time to think and formulate a plan to get her Papa and Dad back together and stop the wedding. As she was toying with the ring around her neck, she turned around to come across a familiar face that she had not seen since the beginning of summer. 

"Dad!" Eponine did a once over of the man. He was dressed better than she had ever seen him, hair for once combed, five o'clock shadow somehow made to look stylish, and face wiped clean of any grime there usually always seemed to be. She caught a whiff of his strong cologne. All in all, he was looking rather dashing if she did say so herself.

The only thing that ruined the look were his frantic eyes. 

He jumped when he caught sight of the girl and he furrowed his eyebrows. 

"Ep? I thought you were keeping Montparnasse company?" What? 

_Oh._

It took Eponine a few seconds to figure out what must have happened; she hadn't considered the possibility that he may have run into her sister while she was out roaming the halls of the tenth floor where their room was located. 

"Uh, yeah I am," she recovered hastily, hoping it was quick enough to dull any of her Dad's suspicions. "I was just looking for him actually.'" There. That seemed like a believable lie. As she stared up into those green eyes she had missed so dearly, Eponine couldn't help but wrap her arms around her Dad, who looked down at her in surprise. "Sorry, it's just really great to see you," she mumbled into his chest. When she drew back, she looked up to see him grinning at her. 

"It's great to see you too, squirt." He gently carded a hand through her hair. Then, he started steering her towards the elevator. "Now come on," he added gently, "get up there." Rolling her eyes, Eponine shrugged off her Dad's hands and pressed the _up_ button to call the machine down to the lobby. With a loud _ding,_ the elevator opened, and out stepped an immaculately dressed man with dark hair and handsome features, who was examining himself in a little compact mirror. He looked down at her. 

"Where's your father?" he asked in a rather rude manner. Eponine decided right away that she did not like him. 

"You talkin' to me?" She raised an eyebrow at him. As far as she was concerned, she had never seen this man in her life. He sneered at her. 

"Who are you, Samantha Barks? Yes of course I'm talking to you." That's when Eponine realized who she was talking to. Her lips curled into a faint smirk. 

"Oh, _Montparnasse_ ," she remarked. "Yeah, I just saw him." The man rolled his eyes at her and glared. 

"Well hello! Where did he go?" _Wow Cosette was right; this guy really is a jerk._ Eponine turned and pointed in the direction opposite to where her Dad just headed. 

"I think he went that-a-way." She continued to look Montparnasse up and down, noticing more and more about him the longer he looked. For instance, she could tell that his grey eyes were the type to never turn warm. 

"What? What do you want?" he demanded when he caught her staring at him. Eponine gave him a faint smile. 

"Nothing, you're just very handsome, that's all," she replied. Montparnasse scoffed. 

"Oh please," he started, "don't say you're going to break your rotten streak now and suddenly be nice to me." Supposedly satisfied with whatever he had seen in the mirror, Montparnasse shut his compact with a click and started to walk off. "If you see your father," he called out, "tell him he's late and I'm waiting." Once he was out of earshot, Eponine cursed him out. 

_No way,_ Eponine thought. _No way in hell am I letting you come between Papa and Dad._

"Whatever you say, Hans." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all are the real OG's if you watched the Penguins of Madagascar tv show when it used to air.
> 
> Did Bahorel go to England to study law or did Enjolras go to America to study law? I don't know, you decide.
> 
> That's a wrap for this week! Stay tuned for next week where we'll see (ex?) lovers meeting face to face, explanations given, and a jealous fiance puzzling things out. 
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> -A


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our lovers finally meet face to face. Featuring revelations, a meeting with the fiance, and possibly reignited desires.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear readers!
> 
> Enjoy today's chapter!
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All the characters belong to Les Miserables, and the dialogue and plot belongs to The Parent Trap.
> 
> -A

All it takes, Enjolras finds out, is just a bit of guilt-tripping to make Combeferre let him go and do whatever he wants. After the whole debacle with the twins revealing their real motives for bringing him here, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, and Bahorel all ganged up on him to try force him to get some rest so he could potentially sleep off his hangover and _relax a little._

Whatever that meant. 

After a particularly painful session of heaving the entirety of his stomach's contents— which mainly consisted of the vodka he had downed earlier— into the toilet, Bahorel had managed to manhandle him onto the hotel bed, Courfeyrac ready with his cuddles when Enjolras snapped back and told them that if they had just told him the truth, he wouldn't be in this "state of shock" they were so convinced he was currently in, and that the thing he needed most was some time alone to himself to think things over without the friends who _lied to him_ hovering around monitoring his every breath. The response had garnered quite a few guilty looks as he pushed his way out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. 

Of course, Enjolras hadn't meant to get so cross with his friends. He loved them to death, but their betrayal still stung a little. With no doubts that Combeferre would eventually snap out of it and come looking for him, Enjolras had decided to make his way over to the hotel bar and hide out there, knowing that the bar would be the last place his friends would go to look for him. When he reached the place, the elderly bartender had simply taken one good look at the state Enjolras was in and slammed a black and honest-to-God terrifyingly disgusting drink in front of him and ordered he drink it in one go. Without much thought as to why accepting a random drink from a stranger may be a bad idea, he took the glass in hand and knocked it back in a single gulp. He came out sputtering and coughing, releasing a loud groan that earned him the glare of the man sitting a few stools to the right of him. He muttered out a hasty _sorry_ before burying his head in his hands. 

Then, all at once, he felt his senses sharpen and his head clear. It no longer hurt to look at the lights and the noises of the crowd at the hotel didn't sound like gunshots anymore. Glancing up in amazement, he looked to see the bartender smile at him. 

"What was in that drink?" he asked in awe. The bartender winked at him. 

"Quite an interesting combination of several plants and herbs, easily found inside any _flora."_ Enjolras smiled.

"Well then, thank you for it." When he started pulling out his chequebook, the man simply waved him away. "I have to pay you," Enjolras frowned. The man smiled at him kindly. 

"Nonsense. It's on the house." His protests were dismissed until Enjolras finally relented, smiled, and held out his hand. 

"Thank you again Mr…" 

"Mabeuf," the bartender clasped his outstretched hand and squeezed. 

"Julien Enjolras," he replied curtly. Out of the corner of his eyes, Enjolras saw the man who had previously glared at him turn sharply at his words to face him. 

"It was no problem, Mr. Enjolras. Judging by the state you were in, you quite needed the concoction." The man threw him one last smile before walking away to serve another customer. Enjolras felt hot breath on his right shoulder. When he turned to see what the problem was, he found himself face-to-face with a man with dark hair and grey eyes staring at him intently. Subconsciously, he leaned backwards to try and put more space in between himself and the stranger. 

"You're Julien Enjolras," the man breathed out, "the famous lawyer, Julien Enjolras." The blond shifted in his seat uncomfortably. 

"Yes, that would be me," he tried in a firm voice. The man in front of him beamed. 

"Wow, this must be fate. I've been trying to get a hold of your office for the past two weeks now. I even sent in a fax yesterday, but they told me you were out of town and—" the man's eyes suddenly turned sharp, "do you take any wealth and property possession cases? Specifically ones where there's a large sum of money involved?" 

Enjolras frowned. If he knew so much about him, then he should also know that he was a human rights lawyer, and that he tried to distance himself away from the world of the petty squabbles of the upper class as much as he could.

"Well, no I don't actually—"

"I'm Montparnasse, by the way," the man cut in, extending his hand to Enjolras, who tried his best not to let the annoyance at being interrupted show in his eyes.

"How do you do?" 

_______________________________________

Grantaire wasn't thinking straight. 

There's a joke to be made somewhere here about how nothing about Grantaire is straight, but he can't bring himself to care because _it's been eleven years and he'd just seen Enjolras._

More importantly, though, is that Enjolras had seen him. He had seen him embracing and kissing Montparnasse. 

Not that that should matter, right? He and Enjolras were history. He was in love with Montparnasse and would be marrying him in two weeks. Grantaire was happy this way. 

Right? 

_If you're so happy, then why were you suddenly so self conscious about the fact that Montparnasse was kissing you when you saw Enjolras in the lobby then? Why did you rush up to change into nicer clothes and comb your hair? Why is your heart beating just the slightest bit faster?_

_Why are you looking for him?_

The voice at the back of Grantaire's head was whispering again. He shut his eyes and grinded his teeth in order to ignore it. 

_Shut up,_ he thought. However, one thing he couldn't deny was the fact that he clearly was searching for Enjolras. Which, he concluded silently in his mind, was fair. It was entirely normal for him to be looking for his ex in such a situation. Maybe he was genuinely curious and may have wanted to catch up with him. Maybe he wanted to know where he was so he could avoid him. 

_Or maybe it's because your eyes are still drawn to seek that which you love—_

_SHUT. UP._

At the current moment, Grantaire was standing near the pool, scanning through the sea of faces in hopes of catching a glimpse of a familiar head of curls. Every once in a while he would nod his head absentmindedly as his fiancé's parents droned on and on about wedding preparations. He was just about to give up on his search for him when Grantaire's finally spotted the man his eyes so desperately sought to steal a glance of. 

There, making his way through the crowd with a determined look in his eyes stood the incarnation of the god Apollo himself. It was no wonder why Grantaire's eyes were able to snag him out of such a dense crowd; not only did the people part for him so that he may walk freely without any constraints, but he commanded an aura so powerful it seemed to radiate off of him, as if he truly controlled the powers of the sun at will. In his tall boots, white shirt, and purple vest, he looked every bit as beautiful and fierce as the first time Grantaire had laid his eyes on him aboard the _QE2._ That familiar feel of butterflies in his stomach, which a part of Grantaire hazily noted had not made itself felt in the last twelve years of his life, came roaring, making him all the bit queasy as well as euphoric at the same time. All other thoughts flew out of Grantaire's head as he continued to stare upon the fair haired avenging archangel; all thoughts except those, of course, that consisted of _Enjolras, Enjolras, Enjolras._

Grantaire hadn't even realized when his legs started moving, but as he pushed through the crowd, he couldn't find it in himself to care. 

“...Now how many are we expecting from your side of the family, Rene?” 

"Can I get back to you on that in just a moment? I’m not quite sure?" he murmured to his fiancé's father, not bothering to wait for a reply. It was then that the man—his lover— his _ex lover_ — turned his gaze and finally seemed to notice Grantaire. Enjolras gave him a shy smile, a smile that he would give him when Grantaire shamelessly flirted with him upon first meeting. Enjolras turned away and Grantaire heard his heart pounding in his chest.

_Ba-bum. Ba-bum. Ba-bum._

In his quest to near him, Grantaire tripped over several toys, towels, and people, stammering out apologies he couldn't care less about really.

"Excuse me—pardon me—sorry—please let me through ..."

"R? You alright?" Bahorel's familiar voice came from beside him, but to Grantaire, it was so very distant because it was not Enjolras' voice, and it was Enjolras' voice he wanted to hear. 

"I'm fine," he replied in his trance-like state. Across from him, on either side of the pool, Eponine and Cosette both stuck their hands out to try and catch their Dad, but they were much too far away. 

"Dad, watch out!" came their voices in unison. In his head, Grantaire realized it was quite strange that Eponine should have two voices instead of one, but he didn't register the oddity of such an event at the present moment. For now, he was focused on getting closer to Enjolras, who had his body turned in the other direction, seemingly looking off into the distance. But Grantaire didn't care about that. All he knew was that he was getting closer, he was close, _so close—_

_SPLASH!_

Too close apparently to spot Javert's leash lying on the ground, tripping him up and sending him crashing into the pool. 

He surfaced, coughing up whatever water he ended up swallowing and, with great difficulty, hauled himself out of the pool, clothes dripping heavy with water. In the meantime, he noticed Enjolras had turned to face him once more, eyes seemingly widening more and more with each step he took. When he finally reached him, the shorter, blond man smiled up at him hesitantly.

“Hi _Ange—_ Enjolras,” inwardly, Grantaire cursed himself for letting the nickname he used to call his ex slip. Enjolras smiled tightly. 

“Hello, Grantaire,” he replied, curt and clipped. They both stood in front of each other, an awkward silence draping over them. “Well,” he heard Enjolras mutter, “there you are, I guess.” The blond, who Grantaire last remembered as a man who never looked away and always held his head high, was purposefully avoiding his gaze and fumbling with his hands. He squinted at him. 

“Enjolras,” he started slowly, “is there something going on here? Because I’m extremely stunned to see you here, but you don’t seem… well… you don’t seem as stunned to see me.” 

“Uhm, well…” 

“And, I mean,” he continued, “I haven’t seen you in like, what, eleven years? And now all of a sudden, you’re here in front of me?” When it was clear that he likely wouldn’t be receiving a coherent answer, Grantaire sighed and scrubbed his face with a hand. 

“Dad,” he jumped and looked to his right, where Eponine had appeared beside him, “I can explain why he’s here.” Grantaire stared at her in shock. 

“Eponine, you know who this is?” he asked, astonished. The girl gave him a sheepish smile. 

“Yeah, I do", at his confusion she continued, “and actually, I’m not Eponine.”

“Actually, I am.” From his left this time came a similar voice. Spinning around, Grantaire noticed Eponine now standing at his left. But that can’t be right; she was just beside him on the other side. He swivelled his head once again to see her on the right. Then the left. Then the right. Again. There were two Eponines… wait no. If the one at his right claimed not to be Eponine, then that must mean she was… 

“Cosette?” his eyes were wide in amazement. The girl on his right gave him a small smile and nodded. 

“I guess you and Papa think alike,” she stated softly, this time her voice coloured by a British accent, “because you both sent us to the same camp, and then the whole thing just spilled out from there.” He gaped at the girl. The girl who had been living with him since her return from summer camp was… 

“They switched places on us, Grantaire.” At his name, he snapped his eyes up to see Enjolras flash him a tired smile. Reverting his eyes back to the two girls, who by this time had left to go stand on either side of his ex, he swallowed and tried to process the hurricane of thoughts currently swirling around his brain. 

“Wait, so I’ve… I’ve had Cosette with me this entire time?” The girl in question stepped forward and gazed into his eyes, twisting her hands nervously. 

“I just wanted to know what you were like,” she said quietly, “and Eponine wanted to see Papa and…” she trailed off, biting her lip. “Are you mad at me?” she asked him in a small voice. Suddenly, the entire situation made sense, and Grantaire couldn’t help but laugh a little. He noticed Cosette perk up a little at this.

“Of course not, kiddo.” He opened his arms up and squeezed back fiercely as he felt Cosette wrap her frail arms around him. “I just can’t believe it’s you,” he murmured into her ear. “Unless I’ve been colour-blind this entire time, last time I remember seeing you, you had a very distinct head of beautiful golden hair. No doubt where you got it from,” he added. When he lifted his eyes to look at Enjolras, the man turned his head away, a faint blush dusting over his marble features. 

Cosette beamed at him. “I dyed it to look like Eponine,” she explained, “it washes off in a few months.” Grantaire allowed himself to look at the little girl he hadn’t seen in more than a decade. In his life, he never thought he would be able to see Cosette again, and it broke his heart everyday when he would remember that thousands of miles away there was another kid, just like Eponine, who was living without even potentially knowing of his existence. 

“Look at you,” he gently squeezed her shoulders, "so grown up." 

"Right," Cosette took a step back and adopted a very business-like expression. "I am grown up, and very much without a Dad who will take me camping and teach me to box." 

Eponine moved to stand next to her sister. "And I'm about to move into my crazy teenage years without a Papa who'll fret over me and keep me over-protected." Grantaire's mind skated over everything the two said as he looked at his other daughter. 

"Eponine you've been in London this entire time?" When the girl nodded, he pulled her in for a hug. 

"Dad, Papa's amazing. I don't know how you ever let him go," was the first thing Eponine told him when she pulled away. Behind them, Enjolras cleared his throat. 

"Girls, why don't you give your Dad and I some space to talk alone?" Grantaire stared at him. Beside them, the twins began to giggle. 

"Of course," Cosette told them with a smirk.

"Take your time!" Eponine wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at the two before letting herself be pulled away by her sister. Grantaire grabbed a towel from a passing hotel staff member and tried his best to dry his wet curls. 

"I don't believe it," he murmured when Enjolras finally seemed to be able to look him in the eyes, "seeing those two together, seeing you…" at this last statement he trailed off, seemingly lost for words. He allowed himself a moment to lose himself in his thoughts, shutting his eyes and recounting the day's events. When he opened them back, he found himself mere inches from Enjolras, who had gone on his tiptoes, his eyebrows knit in concern. Grantaire's breath hitched.

"Grantaire, you're hurt," he said quietly as he reached out to brush a hand over a cut on his cheek. Doing his best to suppress a wince, he tried to collect his thoughts before he opened his mouth to speak. 

"It's not that bad," he stammered. Enjolras scowled at him. 

"Grantaire, you're bleeding." Before he could protest, Enjolras was reaching out to a passing lifeguard and asked for a first aid kit, which he was promptly given. "Go lie down on that chair over there," he ordered. 

"Enjolras it's fine really—"

"Grantaire." 

He laid down on the chair. 

As Enjolras tended to the cut, Grantaire quietly chastised himself for all the thoughts that had floated across his mind when he had been trying to make his way towards Enjolras a few minutes ago. 

_You are marrying Montparnasse in two weeks! You aren't supposed to be thinking about how beautiful another man looks, let alone your ex!_

Yet, as he allowed himself to be taken care of by said ex, Grantaire found he could not take his eyes off of Enjolras' face. He noticed that his eyebrows still furrowed together when concerned and concentrating, and that his features were still as handsomely chiselled as they had been eleven years ago. It seemed that age had no effect on the mortal Dorian Gray ( _minus all the self-centred, selling-your-soul-to-stay-beautiful-forever-and hiding-all-of-your-sins-in-a-painting part,_ Grantaire thought), unlike on Grantaire, who was fairly certain that at least one grey hair had popped up on his head. A golden curl had fallen in between Enjolras' eyes; Grantaire crushed the urge to brush it away. 

"So," his tongue flailed around on potential small-talk conversation topics. Enjolras' eyes snapped up from where they had been rested on his injured cheek to look up at him. _Still as blue as the ocean,_ his mind noted. 

_Stop that!_

"How are you Enjolras?" Sighing in relief, he finally found a safe topic. "Or does everyone call you Julien now?" Enjolras smiled faintly. 

"No, Enjolras is fine. Only Papa calls me Julien." He hesitated as he spoke, running a hand through his hair, a tell tale sign, Grantaire remembered, that he was nervous. 

_What could he possibly be nervous about?_

"I've been great, fantastic," Enjolras muttered, averting his gaze. After a moment, he looked back up at Grantaire with a tight smile. "What about you, how have you been?" Before he could stutter out an answer, Grantaire heard a familiar voice call his name. 

"Rene! There you are! I have been looking all over the place for you and…" Montparnasse trailed off to a stop as he gazed down upon the scene in front of him. Too late, Grantaire realized what the situation looked like. Enjolras jumped away from where he was previously hovering over Grantaire, who was lying on the chair, their faces close enough to be kissing; the blond's expression was rather like that of a deer caught in headlights. "I see you've already met. Honey, this is Julien Enjolras. He's a famous lawyer in London. I was thinking of inviting him to the wedding, get some international influence that'll draw the attention of the press…" Montparnasse shook his head in confusion. "Wait, I don't understand how you two met. And why are you all wet, Rene?" His fiancé continued to stare at Grantaire, puzzled. In his confusion, he did not notice how pale Grantaire had gone as he turned to face Enjolras. 

"You're attending my wedding?" he asked in horror. Enjolras rolled his eyes at him. 

"I suppose so, now that the invitation has been so graciously extended," he replied, his voice hard with something Grantaire just couldn't put his finger on. Enjolras stared him down fiercely. Grantaire's own confusion only grew. 

"Wait, how did you two meet?" he asked Enjolras.

"Am I missing something here?" Montparnasse's voice cut in. Steeling himself, Grantaire sighed and tried for a weak smile at the dark-haired man.

"You know, Montparnasse, it's a small world." Montparnasse narrowed his eyes at him. 

"Just how small?" 

Just then, Cosette arrived at the scene and tapped the immaculately dressed man on the side. 

"Oh, hey there Mont!" she greeted brightly. His fiancé turned to face her. 

"Hello," he replied stiffly. Out of the corner of his eye, Grantaire spotted Eponine saunter up to the man's left. He closed his eyes and braced for what he knew was coming.

"Hey, how ya doin?'" Eponine yelled. Montparnasse grit his teeth and turned to his left, only to see the same girl standing there. Confused, he turned to his right, and found that he had been looking at the same girl as before. He swiveled his head from side to side. 

Then Montparnasse screamed. 

"Honey, did I ever mention that Eponine is a twin?" he asked, trying to rid himself of the sudden headache the scream had brought on. His fiancé's eye twitched. 

"No," he replied while smiling, "it seems you've forgotten to mention that." Grantaire watched as Eponine gave the man a (fake) sympathetic look. 

"Don't worry, Monty, he never told me either. By the way," she jerked a thumb at herself, "I'm Eponine." She pointed to her sister, "And this is Cosette. She was being me here in California and I was being her over in London." Then, Grantaire watched in mounting horror as she finally pointed at Enjolras and said: "And that's our Papa, Dad's _ex husband,_ Julien Enjolras." Montparnasse's head snapped to look at Enjolras. 

"This is your other father?" he asked, eyes not straying from Enjolras' face. 

"Yup," Cosette popped the _p_ at the end of the word. 

"You were married to him?" For the first time in the conversation, Montparnasse directed the question to Enjolras.

"Yes," he replied stiffly. Enjolras, for his own part, didn't look away from the man, eyes fierce like how Grantaire remembered they would get when he spoke about his visions for the future. The two seemed to have an intense staring match until Eponine broke the silence by speaking again. 

"By the way Dad," she cocked her head at him, "I was thinking about changing my name to Eponine Enjolras-Grantaire." Beside him, Enjolras seemed to choke on the air, looking away from Montparnasse as he doubled over to catch his breath. 

"That does have a lovely ring to it, Ep." Her sister gave Grantaire an innocent look. "Then I should probably change mine's to Cosette Enjolras-Grantaire." 

Cue even more coughing from Enjolras. 

"Well this is a small world," Montparnasse finally stated. 

"And getting even smaller," Grantaire muttered under his breath as he caught sight of Combeferre and Courfeyrac, who had watched the entire scene play out from a distance. 

"And what a coincidence," Montparnasse continued, gritting his teeth, "that we're all here on the same weekend." His fiancé turned to look at the twins, both of them flashing him innocent smiles. "My my! How sweet!" 

Grantaire sighed. 

This was going to be a long stay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a tumblr now! Come drop a follow and say hi; find me @at-the-barricades-of-stupidity. Prompts/requests for one-shots and small fics are always welcome! (I'm always down to talk about e/R or about triumvirate friendship)
> 
> That's a wrap for this week! Stay tuned for next week, where we'll watch as our twin heroes arrange a special outing for their parents where the past is discussed, the future is pondered, and feelings may or may not grow.
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> -A
> 
> UPDATE: 19/12/2020: my tumblr url is now @barricadebops :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes set up a date! Our two (ex?) lovers discuss where the past went wrong, what the present looks like, and what the future may entail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear readers!
> 
> Please understand that while I am taking these scenes from the Parent Trap movie, this chapter may still suck because I myself have actually never been on a date, and while reading allows a vast amount of knowledge to enter the head, in terms of things like these, it probably would be better to have some experience. So, I apologize in advance for my terrible date-writing skills. 
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All the characters belong to Les Miserables, and the dialogue and plot belongs to The Parent Trap.
> 
> -A

"Ep, please, I've had enough surprises for today, can you please just tell me where we're going?" His daughter shushed him as she pulled him by the arm outside the hotel. All throughout the evening, Grantaire had been subject to Eponine's torment as she forced him to shower, picked out his clothes, which had been an emerald blazer he couldn't even remember buying over a white dress shirt, black pants and leather shoes, chose his brand of cologne, and made him shave. The last one he desperately tried to protest, but a look from Bahorel, who must have joined Eponine in her diabolical plan, had him standing in front of the mirror, muttering threats under his breath as he brought the razor down over his stubble. She too was dressed much more fancy than he had ever seen, wearing a pretty black dress she no doubt borrowed from Cosette. 

When Grantaire had been forced to tell Montparnasse that he would be having dinner with Enjolras earlier in the day, his fiance had not taken the news kindly. 

_“I just don’t see why you have to have dinner with your_ ex-husband alone _when there’s still so much to do for the wedding,”_ he had told him coldly. 

_“We’re not going to be alone, the girls just really wanted to have dinner with us both. How could I say no?”_ he countered. 

Montparnasse had left him to deal with the bar bill on his own.

"Dad, just be patient. You're going to love it," she promised as they waited out in front of the hotel. A few moments later, he spotted Cosette, dressed in soft yellow, dragging out a wary Enjolras. Grantaire's breath caught as his eyes wandered over the other man's form. 

_He just continues to get more beautiful,_ he thought against every coherent part of his brain as he looked over what Enjolras was wearing. It seemed most of his outfit remained the same as before, except his purple vest had been replaced with a bold red blazer and a slim black necktie. His golden curls reflected the moonlight. All in all, he looked powerful, like a revolutionary ready to lead his rebellion. 

Then he smiled shyly at Grantaire and he thought, _looks like revolutions aren't the only things he has control over; this man has complete control over me._

Wait. 

No he didn't. 

Montparnasse did. Not Enjolras. Montparnasse.

"Hi," Enjolras greeted when Cosette finally let go of his hand, leaving him to go stand just a few inches away from each other. 

Grantaire cleared his throat and tried to get his tongue to formulate a coherent sentence. He opened his mouth to greet him back.

All that came out, however, was "Uhhhhhh…" 

In front of him, Enjolras raised an eyebrow as the girls burst out into giggles. _How very eloquent._ His face burned as he tried to recover his dignity. "Hello," he finally managed to stammer out after what had seemed like years. 

Enjolras gave him a small smile. "So do you have any idea where they're actually taking us?" Grantaire looked over at the girls, who were both grinning so hard it must have hurt. 

"No clue." Eponine and Cosette stepped forward. 

"Right," Cosette began. She pulled two pieces of red fabric out from her purse. _Blindfolds._ "Put these on." Enjolras looked down at his daughter, just the slightest bit disturbed. 

"Cosette, I'm not going to put on a blindfold and let you take me wherever you want." 

"Papa." She glared at her Papa, which effectively made him shrink back. Hesitantly, the blond grabbed one of the blindfolds and expertly tied it over his eyes. Grantaire swallowed and tried his hardest not to let his mind stray to memories of other situations in which he had seen Enjolras wear a blindfold. With a glare, Eponine turned towards him, holding out the piece of fabric.

"Your turn, Dad." Grantaire knew a lost fight when he saw one, so he tied the blindfold over his own eyes without any protest. As he finished the last knot, he strained his eyes to see that his surroundings had been turned into a solid shade of red. 

_So this is what wearing a blindfold feels like, huh?_

When he felt a cool hand slide into his own, Grantaire jumped. 

"Grantaire?" Enjolras called out his name uncertainly. He squeezed the hand he was holding. 

"I'm right here, _Ange_ —jolras." _God he needed to stop doing that!_

He heard more giggling behind them.

A tug on his hand pulled him and Enjolras into what he presumed was a car. He heard the engine come to life and then they drove off into the night.

_______________________________________

Enjolras spent most of the car trip to wherever the hell it was they were going trying not to hyperventilate. Really, he didn’t know how he had ever ended up in such a vulnerable position, blindfolded and seated in the back of a limo (seriously what strings did his daughters pull to arrange a _limo_ ?) When he had been pulled into the car, he felt his body pressed against Grantaire’s, which is why after he had patted the space beside him to ensure it was empty, he scooted as far away as he could, grasping for the familiar feel of a window. He had been beyond horrified when he realized he had grabbed his ex’s hand before stepping into the car. As soon as he felt him squeeze back, he snatched his hand away, thankful for the fact that Grantaire was likely wearing a blindfold too, because he was sure that his cheeks had turned the same shade of red as the fabric currently pressed upon his eyes. Enjolras really needed to do something about the whole blushing situation; he was a thirty-five year old man! He should _not_ be blushing like a little school boy. 

Before leaving, Combeferre had forced Enjolras to take his anxiety medication, then promptly headed out of the door with Courfeyrac in tow.

“ _Where are you going?”_

_“Courf and I were thinking of exploring the city a bit. Why, do you need one of us to stay with you?”_

_“No… that’s fine. You guys should go enjoy yourselves. At least some of us will have fun.”_

Combeferre gave him a secretive smile before slipping out and leaving him alone to deal with Cosette, who insisted he freshen up and change his blazer to the red one Courfeyrac had picked out back in London, and couple it with a tie. 

“ _I don’t see why we need to do this, Cosette.”_

_“Please, Papa, I’ve never had dinner with my Dad, Papa, and sister all together. This might be my only chance before Dad gets married!”_

In the end, it was the look in Cosette’s eyes that made Enjolras agree to her demands. 

Now, as they drove through the city, Enjolras wondered when exactly he had lost the ability to say no to anything. He supposed it occurred when his children were born and he looked into twin pairs of innocent eyes he decided he would always try to protect.

A sharp turn and rough patch sent him crashing, with a yelp, into Grantaire, whose large, strong hands instantly flew to grip his waist while Enjolras stuck out his own hands on what he assumed was the man’s broad chest in an attempt to stabilize himself; he felt hot breath ghost from mere centimetres away on his face. 

“Steady now,” Grantaire whispered, obviously much closer than the man must have liked, considering he was going to get married in two weeks. Enjolras shivered as he extracted himself from his ex's hold. For a moment, Grantaire's grip on his waist tightened, before it was gone as quick as it had been there, and Enjolras backed up blindly until he felt the familiar press of the car door on his side. He mumbled a quick _sorry_ and crossed his arms over his chest. God, Enjolras just couldn’t stop making a fool of himself today. His thoughts flashed back to the way he had regarded Grantaire’s fiance. When he thought about it, his cheeks burned with shame; he had absolutely no right to have treated him so indifferently. The man—Montparnasse—hadn’t done anything wrong to him. He was simply marrying Grantaire, and that did not earn him Enjolras’ ire, because Enjolras no longer had anything to do with Grantaire. In all honesty, he didn’t know what was wrong with him. He was used to being in control of his feelings; seeing Grantaire’s fiance had triggered some bitter reaction in him that he didn’t recognize. But, as he thought about it now, he firmly decided in his mind that he would apologize to Montparnasse for appearing rude to him and congratulate him on his upcoming marriage. After all, he didn’t harbour any grudge; he was simply here because he wanted to discuss the twins’ custody arrangement. That’s all. After this, he would go his separate way from Grantaire, heading back to London to throw himself into his work as he watched Grantaire marry another man and move on. 

Just like he had done twelve years ago.

Right?

Enjolras could’ve cried from relief when the car finally stopped and he felt Cosette’s—or Eponine’s, he couldn’t tell—familiar hand pull him out of the vehicle. The air was tinged with the smell of fresh water and a slight breeze made its way across the atmosphere.

“Okay, you can take off the blindfolds now!” Taking the blindfold off proved to be a challenge. While he managed to tie it with ease, he now found that he couldn’t make any sense of the knots he had done up. Hands fumbling, he cursed under his breath as he felt everyone’s gaze burn into his struggling figure.

“Let me.” His breath caught as he felt Grantaire’s familiar warmth envelope him; the man’s whisper was a tickle on his neck as he felt the taller man’s fingers brush against his hair and undo the knot at the back of his head. “There you go.” The blindfold was lifted and his vision was clear once more. When he turned around, he looked up to see Grantaire’s green eyes burn into his with something dark that made his insides squirm. The sight was enough to leave him breathless. Instinctively, he leaned up closer.

_What are you doing?_

With a start, he jerked back, putting as much distance between himself and his ex as possible. Because that’s what he was. Grantaire was his _ex._ His ex who was engaged to another man. He looked away and muttered a small thanks before forcing himself to turn away towards Cosette and Eponine, who regarded him with a look of disappointment. 

“So, are we eating here?” he asked, gesturing to the surrounding docks. Cosette and Eponine smiled and shook their heads.

“No, actually,” Eponine said, “that’s where we’re eating,” she pointed past him. Turning around, his eyes spotted a large ship sitting in the harbour.

“She’s ours for the night,” Cosette declared proudly. Despite himself, Enjolras couldn't help but feel amazement as he continued to look upon the ship. 

“Wow,” he heard the word leave his mouth before he could stop himself. Beside him, in closer proximity than he last remembered, Grantaire cleared his throat. 

“So, exactly how are we paying for this?”

Huh. That was a good question. He turned to look at the twins curiously. 

“We pooled together our allowances,” Eponine told them firmly. When he and Grantaire gave them unimpressed looks, the two blushed. 

“Okay, so Grandfather may have pitched in a little,” Cosette admitted. Enjolras raised his eyebrows at her. “Okay, he may have pitched in a lot,” she finally confessed. 

“Come on,” Eponine whined, “don’t worry about it! You’ll love it!” He was dragged onto a boat that allowed them to reach the cruise ship. As they stepped onto the ship, Enjolras furrowed his eyebrows. Something about this entire place was familiar… 

“Pretty snazzy,” he heard Grantaire mutter under his breath. He smiled to himself. They stopped outside a door. Cosette cleared her throat.

“Enjolras and Grantaire,” she said professionally, “your dinner awaits!” With that, the two pushed open the doors and they stepped into a room set with a round table draped with a white tablecloth and decorated with candles. Behind the table, a lifesaver hung crested with the words _Queen Elizabeth Two, Southampton._

_No wonder it looks so familiar._

His eyes quickly picked up on a problem, however: there were only two seats open. 

“Girls, there are only two seats here,” Grantaire voiced the same concern that was currently running through Enjolras’ mind. The twins gave them a pair of innocent smiles. 

“Oh, that’s part of the surprise,” Eponine told them, “we won’t be joining you.” Enjolras felt his heartbeat pick up. He was going to be having dinner alone in the room with… 

Praying that his face wasn’t as red as it felt, he cleared his throat, “You won’t?” he asked, doing his best to keep his voice level. 

“No, but I am,” Enjolras turned to the right to see Courfeyrac approach them. 

_So that’s where they went!_

“Good evening, my name is Courfeyrac and I’ll be your server for the evening.” He winked at Enjolras, who glared at him. “Please, have a seat.” After a moment’s hesitation, he went to walk towards the table, nervously tapping his knuckles against the back of the chair. 

“Let me get that,” Grantaire’s voice came from behind his ear. Arms wrapping around Enjolras' lithe figure, Grantaire had unknowingly pulled him into a sort of backwards embrace as he reached to pull open Enjolras’ chair for him. He shivered slightly, closing his eyes and bracing himself against the chair. Then he turned around and smiled tightly at Grantaire. 

“It’s fine,” he told him as he pulled it out and seated himself, avoiding his gaze. What was he doing? He can’t have dinner with Grantaire like this! The man was engaged! It wasn’t appropriate for him to be going through with this. Just as he was about to open his mouth to tell him this exact thing, a second voice cut through the air. 

“Good evening! My name is Bahorel. May I offer you some bubbly in the hopes that you won’t get too mad at us three and try to clobber us when this is over?” As Bahorel made to pour a glass of champagne into Enjolras’ glass, he smiled politely and shook his head. Apart from a few experiments in his youth, a few days ago at lunch, the embarrassing airplane incident Enjolras vowed never to speak of again, and of course, _that time twelve years ago,_ he never drank alcohol. The reason wasn't just because he seemed to have luck worse than Bossuet (who he hadn't seen in over a decade, perhaps he should make plans to visit him, Joly, and Musichetta when this whole ordeal was over) whenever he got drunk; more so, it was the fact that he didn't like the prospect of not being in control of himself. He liked to have a firm grip on himself, and perhaps that was why this whole Grantaire-situation left him so perplexed. He didn't know what was going on, why his heart would suddenly beat faster and cheeks turn red when Grantaire got just a little bit too close to him. He didn't know why it both infuriated him and broke his heart when he saw his ex's new fiance stand next to him. He didn't know why Grantaire's every little touch or smile left him desperate for more. 

He didn't know a lot anymore, these days.

"By the way," Bahorel's voice snapped him out of his trance, "I'm still not your servant, R." Bahorel smiled at him. "Though, I know that I won't have to tell the Chief that, 'cause I know he has some respect for me. Unlike that rat of a man you supposedly want to marry." Enjolras laughed at that, closing his eyes in delight and effectively missing Grantaire's look of absolute breathless captivation. 

"Where's Combeferre?" he asked when he finally stopped laughing. Bahorel smiled at him. 

"Who do you think spent so much agonizing time buying all this stuff?" He gestured to the decorations around them. "He's done his job, now he's sitting back and enjoying the show." Bahorel threw his head over his shoulder. "Cosette! Mood music please!" A symphony of strings began to play as Courfeyrac brought out the first dish. 

"Just relax," Cosette told them. 

"Take a trip down memory lane to yester-year," Eponine whispered. Quietly, the two backed up out of the room, Bahorel and Courfeyrac close in tow, which left him all alone with… with… 

Realizing that he couldn't avoid it forever, Enjolras turned his head to meet Grantaire's gaze, so bright and promising. He gave him a tentative smile, which Grantaire returned with his own crooked grin. 

"You do get this all, don't you?" Grantaire asked him. 

"I'm beginning to, yes," he murmured as he took in his surroundings. Now that he was paying better attention, he could see that—

"They're recreating the night we met," Grantaire finished his thoughts. "The boat, the music…" he trailed off. Enjolras smiled faintly. 

"I think it's rather sweet," he remarked. "To be honest I haven't been on another boat since the QE2," he admitted. Across from him, Grantaire laughed and Enjolras felt a surge of joy rush through him because _God he had missed that laugh so much and back when they were married he would do anything to hear him laugh and_ —

 _Back when we were married,_ he remembered. Because they aren't anymore. 

"I wouldn't ever expect you to go on another cruise. The industry seems a little too _bourgeoisie_ for you. Not to mention the complete lack of regulations on those things." 

"I—well—that's only because—" at his attempts to stammer out an argument, Grantaire laughed again and held up his hands in mock defence. 

"I'm only teasing, Enjolras. Besides, in all honesty, neither have I." Grantaire lifted his glass of champagne, "Well then, here's to—" 

"—Our daughters," Enjolras finished quickly, averting his eyes. A brief look of disappointment crossed Grantaire's face, but it was gone in a flash as he covered it up with an easy-going smile while taking a careful sip of his drink. 

"To our daughters."

The sound of muffled giggles drew both of their attention to the little round window that led to the kitchen, where they spotted Eponine and Cosette observing with wide eyes. The girls ducked down when they saw they had been caught and Enjolras let out a soft laugh. 

"Now I know what it feels like to be a goldfish," he mused. When he turned back to face Grantaire, expecting him to make some corny joke about the whole situation, he felt his cheeks heat up at the intense way the dark haired man was looking at him. Enjolras went back to toying with his food. 

"You know," Grantaire started abruptly, "sometime, if we're ever really alone," he threw a glance at the two girls who had resumed their date-watching (wait, no it wasn't a date, so they weren't date watching) position behind the window, "maybe we could talk about what happened between us." Enjolras snapped his head up to look at Grantaire. _He wants to talk about what happened?_

 _When you and Grantaire separated, neither of you really talked about your issues before you went through with it. It was all very hasty. Perhaps now that you're going back with a bit more maturity and cool headedness, you can talk out the whole situation and finally close that chapter for good._ Combeferre's words echoed in his head. Maybe he was right. Maybe this was the closure he needed so that he could finally move on from Grantaire and live his life without that familiar pair of sparkling green eyes haunting his thoughts.

"It all feels a bit hazy now," Grantaire continued. "It all ended so fast." Sighing, Enjolras looked directly into the other man's eyes. 

"It all started so fast," he told him. Grantaire's eyes raked over him. 

"That part I remember very clearly," he said.

Enjolras flushed red.

_______________________________________

After he successfully managed to deflect from the topic, (because, it turns out, Enjolras is secretly a coward who can't face the prospect of closure) the two managed to initiate a civil discussion about politics. 

Or at least, mostly a discussion.

Enjolras talked for ninety percent of the time, only pausing to argue a point that Grantaire would bring up, while Grantaire would stare, enraptured. Because he was so caught up in his passionate argument about the injustices of America's medical system, he didn't even notice when the main course had been served, or that his hand motions were beginning to grow wilder, his cheeks were beginning to flush ever-more rosy, and his eyes had turned bright and blazing with passion. 

(In short, he failed to notice how Grantaire had suddenly become very preoccupied with composing a poem, one being recited in a voice that sounded suspiciously like his old friend Jehan's, about the beauty of Enjolras' passion inside of his head.) 

"What is it?" he asked hesitantly when he finally took note of Grantaire's staring. 

"Nothing," Grantaire replied, still not taking his eyes off of him. Against all thoughts of his dignity, Enjolras blushed deep red again. 

_You can't go a single look from Grantaire without turning into a flustered mess. God, could you get anymore pathetic?_

"So," he cleared his throat and changed the topic in hopes of saving himself and his traitorous cheeks from further embarrassment, "you seem to be doing very well. Your dream of owning your own vineyard actually came true." Grantaire raised an eyebrow at him.

"Surprised, Enjolras?" he asked dryly. His eyes went wide with mortification.

"Oh no! That wasn't at all what I meant, I—" he stopped suddenly when he heard the sound of chuckling. The dark haired man gave him a sideways smile. 

"Just teasing again, don't worry. And yes, thank you the business is going just fine. What about you? Always making those passionate speeches or ranting about the latest newspaper article— I hear you're some famous lawyer now?" Enjolras smiled at this. Though at times it could be extremely stressful, he loved his job, and he loved talking about it too. 

"Yeah, it's great, see we get to help all those who are in such desperate need of it…" And he went off again, talking with a fierceness paralleled by none, watched by a devotion never before seen. 

"I'm happy for you," Grantaire finally told him when he finished. The statement threw him off. 

"I'm happy for you too," he replied earnestly. "Actually," he continued, a little more to himself this time, "it's quite amazing. We both got exactly where we wanted to get to." And that was the entire thing, wasn't it? It was the proof Enjolras needed to see to affirm his belief that they were better off without each other. He had achieved his dreams; he was a renowned human rights lawyer in London who was able to make a difference by helping those in need. Granraire had become a massive presence in the world of wine. He owned his own vineyard and was living life quite happily. Both of them had ended up satisfied in life after they had gone their separate ways. 

Wasn't that enough? 

Oblivious to Enjolras' inner turmoil, Grantaire smiled at him and replied, "Yeah. We both did."

A silence passed over the room. 

"So, what are we going to do about the girls?"

_Right. The girls. They were the entire reason you came over here._

"Well I guess now that they've met each other, we can't keep them apart," he said thoughtfully. "I could keep them for half the year and then you could— " 

"Enjolras," Grantaire interrupted flatly, "they can't go to two different schools every year." He winced.

"Yeah, you're right. Okay well what if I kept them for a whole year and then you could…" he trailed off once he realized how stupid his idea sounded, and he let out a huff of frustration. As a lawyer, he was supposed to be good at problem solving. 

"Enjolras," Grantaire looked at him "this is why we have the solution that we have." Swallowing hard, Enjolras turned away. 

"Really?" he asked quietly. "I thought it was because we decided never to see each other again." He heard Grantaire sigh. 

"Not we, Enjolras." 

_This is it_ , he thought quietly to himself. _You can't keep avoiding the topic._ Steeling himself, he looked back into Grantaire's surprisingly hurt expression. 

"Actually, that part's become a bit hazy to me too," he admitted slowly. 

"You mean you don't remember the day you packed?" The man's dark eyebrows furrowed. Enjolras shook his head. 

"No, that day I remember perfectly." Grimacing, he remembered a particularly brutal part of their fight. "Did it hurt when I threw that, uh…" Grantaire's eyes crinkled with amusement. 

"Hairdryer," he finished for him. 

"Right, sorry about that," he stammered, looking away, until Grantaire spoke his next few words. 

"You know, I may never be alone with you again," he started. "So, about the day you packed." A pause. "Why'd you do it?" Snapping his eyes to meet Grantaire's curious one, Enjolras sighed. 

"Grantaire, we were both young," he explained, trying his best to seem like he hadn't thought of this exact question almost everyday for the past twelve years. "That was probably the biggest part of it—we both had tempers and provoked each other, and if I'm being completely honest, neither of us handled things maturely. Your cynicism and my idealism didn't mix, Grantaire. From what I remember, you never seemed to stop mocking what I believed in, actually," he finished quietly. A hand brushed across his. He jerked his hand back as he looked into Grantaire's apologetic eyes.

"I never meant to mock you, Enjolras," he said quietly. "I'm sorry it came out that way. I guess I sort of projected my own insecurities onto you, didn't I?" Grantaire ran a hand through his wild curls. "I'll admit that I've never really believed in much," he murmured, "but if there was ever anything I had faith in, it was you." Grantaire's gaze burned into his eyes. "I believe in you, Enjolras." His ex's words left Enjolras breathless. 

_He believes in me. But did he ever believe in us? Does he still believe in us?_

Clearing his throat and averting his gaze, Enjolras tried to find his voice and continue. "It's fine," he muttered. "It wasn't completely your fault anyways. I wasn't exactly the greatest husband either." With a painstaking amount of effort, he looked back into Grantaire's eyes. "I should have tried to understand you better, and I should have been more supportive when you were—"

"If you're talking about my addiction therapy," Grantaire cut him off with a sigh, "then don't act like any part of it was your fault, _Ange_ —jolras. You supported me as much as you could." Enjolras swallowed nervously. 

"It was though," he started in a small voice, "I shouldn't have gotten mad those few times—"

"Key word being _few_ —" 

"—when you were trying so hard. That wasn't fair of me." Grantaire stared at him incredulously. 

"Enjolras, do you think the entire world's struggles are yours to carry? Each and every person's problems yours to solve? Yes, what you would say when you were angry would hurt, but you have your own emotions and feelings too; expecting yourself to stay completely stable and stoic throughout the entire ordeal is insane." Suddenly, Grantaire leaned forwards in his seat and reached a hand out towards Enjolras, who closed his eyes as he felt his breath hitch. 

"You know, it's okay to let yourself feel human, Enjolras. You don't always have to keep that fearless marble mask up," Grantaire whispered as he brushed back a stray curl from Enjolras' face. Grantaire's rough fingers trailed down the side of his face and gently tilted his chin up. Enjolras felt his body lean forward out of its own volition. He could sense Grantaire's face mere inches away from his own. _All he had to do was lean forward to close the distance and press his lips onto_ — 

_Grantaire is engaged._ With a start, he snapped his eyes open and jerked back in his seat, looking away from Grantaire, pale, panting, and— to his utter humiliation— _once again blushing._ The creak of the seat across from him informed him that his _engaged ex_ had sat back down in his own chair. The air grew heavy with the awkward silence that had enveloped the two. With a deep breath, Enjolras started talking again.

"You and I both said some admittedly stupid things," he said quietly, unable to look Grantaire in the eyes. 

"What?" the other man asked, confused.

"Why I left that day," he supplied quickly, swallowing nervously, still looking at the spot on the left on the ground. "We were talking about why I left that day. We both said stupid things— and that was it for me, I guess. I packed and got on the very first 747, and then, and then…" the last part was the hardest to say, because saying it would admit that Enjolras had previously thought about it before, that he'd often imagined what would have happened if things didn't turn out the way they did. And he wouldn't just be admitting this to Grantaire.

He would be admitting it to himself too. 

"...and then you never came after me," he finished quietly, trying his best to swallow the lump in his throat. A heavy silence blanketed itself over the room. It was suffocating and stifling, and Enjolras knew he had to breathe or he might send himself into another attack. As subtle as he could, he filled his lungs near-to-bursting with air and released a staggered breath. The silence seemed to stretch on forever. 

"I didn't know you wanted me to come after you," he heard Grantaire finally respond in a whisper. 

But what if he did? Would he have come for him? Or would he have still let him go anyways?

_Stop._

Grantaire would be getting married in two weeks. It didn’t matter what the answer to that question was, nor would it ever matter, because it was too late now, and Grantaire was happy with his life, and he was with his own. 

Still, a tiny part of his brain knew that the question would haunt him for perhaps the rest of his life. 

But that part of his brain wasn't important. What was important was taming the whirlwind of thoughts currently going on in his head and talking about the issue he had originally come here for. Taking in another breath, he plastered on what he hoped was a convincing enough smile and turned to face his ex-husband.

"Well," he said, "it really doesn't matter anymore. So let's put a good face on for the girls and get this matter sorted out." Across from him, Grantaire sighed resignedly. 

"Yeah okay. Let's get this show on the road." 

Over dessert, not another word was uttered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I'm not lying about the lack of regulation on cruise ships; those things are a mess when it comes to legality and works within shades of grey. For better information, watch Patriot Act with Hasan Minhaj- S4 Ep4 "The Real Cost of Cruises."
> 
> I have a Tumblr now! Come say hi and drop a follow @at-the-barricades-of-stupidity, or feel free to rec my work to others on the site.
> 
> That's all for this week! Stay tuned for next week, where Enjolras will be taking Cosette back to London the morning after the date???
> 
> UPDATE: 19/12/2020: my tumblr url is now @barricadebops :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras takes Cosette back to London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear readers!
> 
> Sorry for the late update! I was a little busy. This week is a bit of a shorter chapter. Hopefully next chapter makes up for it ;)
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All the characters belong to Les Miserables, and the dialogue and plot belongs to The Parent Trap.
> 
> -A

“Here’s your passport,” he handed Enjolras his passport, “have a safe trip.” His ex gave him a nod and a small smile. Grantaire tried to recount the events of yesterday’s dinner, but the more he remembered, the more frustrated he felt with himself. It was as if his brain had gone haywire upon seeing Enjolras; really, why did he feel the need to pull out his chair for him? And he was quite sure that one of the twins would have gladly helped him with his blindfold. Grantaire could distinctly recall the way Enjolras’ body had gone tense in front of him as he had wrapped his arms around him to reach for the chair. Of course it would go tense; from what he had told him yesterday, it was quite obvious that his ex wanted nothing to do with him and was simply focused on the situation with the twins. Which was fine, Grantaire told himself, because he was going to be married in two weeks time and Enjolras would be leaving for London. 

Still, he couldn’t get his mind over one specific detail from yesterday. 

_...and then you never came after me._ The way Enjolras’ voice had gone small and quiet when he told him this haunted his thoughts all night long.

_Would you have had me if I did?_

And then there was the almost-kiss. What, in honest God's name, was he thinking? He was engaged! _Engaged!_ Grantaire was going to get married in a matter of days, and yet just the night before, he had almost kissed his ex-husband. 

His ex-husband who had leaned into his touch and almost kissed him back. 

_Stop it,_ he told his brain, _Enjolras wants nothing to do with me. He's just here for the girls. He made that much clear last night. So stop thinking about him._

“Thank you. It seems I’m all set then,” Enjolras looked at him meaningfully before averting his eyes away. Then there was the matter of whatever was going on with Enjolras' eyes. Grantaire had never seen him look away from anything; the man was always ready to fight for what he believed in and, as Grantaire had seen on multiple occasions, he had the power to burn people simply with his fierce, unwavering gaze. 

So why won’t he look at Grantaire?

“Where’s Cosette?” Enjolras’ words startled him out of his thoughts. He swiveled his head from side to side around the lobby. 

“She’s on her way down.” He looked back at his ex, who was staring resolutely at the elevators. Grantaire cleared his throat, “Right. So, I’ll send Eponine over to London for Christmas.”

“Yes, and I’ll see to it that Cosette spends Easter with you,” Enjolras replied without moving his gaze. A thick silence fell over the two as seconds stretched into minutes, which, to Grantaire, honestly felt was more like hours. 

With a loud ding, the elevator slid open to reveal Bahorel, Courfeyrac, Combeferre, and the twins, who were outfitted from head-to-toe in identical dress wear. Like this, Grantaire couldn’t tell who was who; with both of their hair turned dark, it was impossible to tell each apart. The two walked up to their parents with matching smirks. 

“Cosette, why are you in those clothes?” Enjolras’ voice was heavy with exasperation. It seemed he was close to reaching the end of his limit, and from the way he kneaded his temples, it looked like he was coming down with another one of his infamously horrid headaches, which concerned Grantaire immensely. 

“Here’s the thing Papa,” one of the two told Enjolras in a British accent, “we think we’re being totally duped. Dad,” she glanced over at him, “promised we’d go on our camping trip, and we want to go… together.” The blond turned to him with furrowed eyebrows. 

“What camping trip?” Grantaire waved a hand dismissively.

“The one we go on every summer.” Enjolras faced the twin on the left. 

“Cosette, go put on your clothes.” The girl raised a challenging eyebrow. 

“Are you sure I’m Cosette?” she asked. 

“Yes,” he stated firmly. The girl smiled at him.

“100% positive?” she switched from a British accent to an American, which, Grantaire observed, left a confused expression on the shorter man’s face. Grantaire glared at the two.

“Girls, this isn’t funny,” he reprimanded. “Your Papa is going to miss his flight.” The two girls shrugged nonchalantly. 

“Cosette!” 

“Yes?” they both responded in an American lilt. Grantaire narrowed his eyes and slowly walked up to the twin on the right, observing her facial movements. 

“This one’s Eponine,” he stated slowly. “I’m positive.” She grinned at him.

“I sure hope you’re right Dad,” the girl told him in an American accent. “After all, you don’t want to send the wrong kid back to England,” she switched to a British accent, “would you?” Helplessly, Grantaire turned back to face Enjolras, who turned his eyes to face Combeferre. 

“Combeferre, which one of them is Cosette?” he asked shortly. The bespectacled man shrugged his shoulders. 

“Sorry, Enjolras, but we found them like this. They refused to speak a single word when we asked.” Enjolras let out a huff of frustration. 

“Here’s our proposition,” the twin on the left began in American, “we pack our bags, go back to Dad’s house, and the four of us go camping,” she ended in British. 

“The four of us?” Enjolras’ expression of confusion was just so _goddamn cute his eyebrows get all furrowed and—_

—Why the hell was Grantaire thinking about that? He was in love with _Montparnasse._

“After that, we’ll tell you who’s who,” the twin on the left said in American. His ex raised his eyebrows threateningly.

“Or,” he began, “you do as we say and I take one of you back to London whether you like it or not.” The twins smiled sharply. 

_______________________________________

“What am I supposed to do, sit home and knit?” Explaining the whole ordeal to Montparnasse proved to be quite the challenge. In the end, Enjolras relented to the demands of the twins, though he insisted that he sit in the back seat with one of them rather than up in the passenger beside Grantaire when driving back to house, which, on some level, stung a little. When they got back, however, his face went from dismayed to calculating, as if he was scheming something secretly.

The thought had left Grantaire queasy. 

Now, on top of that, he had to deal with a furious fiance first thing in the morning. 

He scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “Montparnasse, we kind of have a sticky situation here.”

“Sticky situation? What do you mean 'sticky situation'?” At the sound of footsteps, his fiance turned to see Enjolras walking out of the house, fitted in a white short sleeved t-shirt, sweat pants and… Grantaire’s heart jumped. Was that his beanie?

Montparnasse turned back to him with cold fury blazing in his eyes. “Excuse me? What is he doing here?” Grantaire grimaced. 

“That’s part of the deal. The four of us go together,” he explained. Montparnasse scowled. 

“Rene, this is absolutely…” Enjolras appeared behind him. 

“Hello,” he ventured kindly. Montparnasse jumped and turned to glare at him. 

“Hello,” he replied stiffly. Enjolras turned to look at Grantaire. 

“By the way, Grantaire, I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed one of your hats. Eponine said I could use it.” He paused. “Or, at least I think it was Eponine.” Grantaire swallowed and tried not to make a fool of himself like he did yesterday. 

“It’s fine,” he muttered. For Montparnasse, however, this was absolutely not fine. He looked like he wanted to do nothing more than rip the beanie off of the blond’s head, and, because he was just _so_ subtle with his facial expressions, Enjolras took note of this as well. 

“Is everything alright?” he asked gently. Montparnasse’s nostrils flared. 

“No actually, it isn’t.” Grantaire buried his head in his hands and groaned quietly. He could not deal with this drama so early. “I didn’t realize you were going on this outing,” Montparnasse continued, “and quite frankly, I’m not sure I’m okay with it.” 

_Here it comes,_ Grantaire thought. Any second now, Enjolras would assume his _avenging archangel_ form and start preaching about the wrongfulness of his fiance’s assumptions. 

Instead, what he heard was, “I agree.”

_Huh?_

His head shot up to see Enjolras nod his head in agreement. 

“The ex-husband in the next sleeping bag is a bit uncomfortable, isn’t it?” Montparnasse looked positively dumbfounded, but he managed to nod his head.

“Yes, thank you.” Enjolras looked him straight in the eyes. 

“I insist you come with us, then.” At this, Montparnasse’s entire demeanor changed; suddenly, he was very uncomfortable with where he was standing.

“Really,” Enjolras said at Montparnasse’s expression of discomfort. Grantaire stared at him, first with disbelief, then with horror.

“Enjolras…” his expression was pained. This could not be happening; the past few days have already been stressful on it’s own. With this on top… 

“No, honestly Grantaire. It’s the least I can do. I’ve completely ruined your weekend with my presence, let me make up for it.” 

_Your presence never ruins anything. It only ever brightens the place up._

_______________________________________

Just as Eponine was congratulating herself and her sister for coming up with such a genius plan, she stopped dead in her seat while she watched a second figure emerge from the house behind her Papa. She swiveled in her seat to look at Cosette, whose eyes had gone wide in horror. 

“Dad,” she asked slowly, “what is Montparnasse doing here?” Her Dad kept his eyes firmly on the wheel in front of him even though he hadn’t even started the engine yet. 

“Your Papa invited him.” Beside her, Cosette sucked in a breath.

“What?!” her sister exclaimed. _Amen to that, sister._

“Be nice,” their Dad ordered firmly. She watched grimly as Montparnasse climbed down the stairs in a black trainer’s suit that obviously would not cut it for camping. He walked up to the car and took the seat next to her Dad. Eponine ground her teeth, and beside her, she could tell Cosette was doing the same. Their Papa was supposed to sit there!

Once the door shut, her Papa looked around at them, still standing outside the jeep. 

“Okay, then? All set? Have fun everyone.” He walked backwards a few steps. Eponine and Cosette’s jaws dropped. In the mirror, they spotted their Dad’s eyes furrowing in confusion.

“Enjolras, what are you doing?” he asked, baffled. Their Papa gave him a sympathetic look. 

“Well, I figured you and Montparnasse could use some time alone before the big day.” His eyes sparkled, which made Eponine fume.

“Papa, come on, that wasn’t the plan!” she argued. Cosette was nodding vigorously beside her. He smiled faintly at them. 

“Honestly, you’ll have more fun without me.” In front, Montparnasse had gone rigid. 

“Wait,” he began slowly, “if you’re not going then surely I don’t have to either. I’m not a very big nature person.” Their Papa frowned at him.

“But it’s your chance to get to know the girls,” he stated with furrowed eyebrows. “After all, in a few days, they’re half yours.” Eponine rolled her eyes and huffed, which earned her a wink from her Papa. 

What…?

“Okay then. Have fun all of you. Eponine, Cosette, make sure to bring me something back.” _Well we’ve been trying to bring you Dad, but you haven’t exactly opened your arms for him._ “Bye.”

Her Dad started the engine (with quite a miserable expression on his face, Eponine noted) and in a few seconds time, they were zooming through the road, headed off to go camping with _Montparnasse._

_______________________________________

Back at the house, Bahorel elbowed Enjolras gently in the side.

“I’d pay good money to see that man try and climb a mountain.”

Enjolras tipped his head back and laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, no. There was no chance Enjolras was actually going to take Cosette back at this point in the story.
> 
> I have a Tumblr now! Come say hi and drop a follow @at-the-barricades-of-stupidity, or feel free to rec my work to others on the site.
> 
> That's all for this week. Stay tuned for next week where we'll experience the familiar feel of our twin heroes camping and getting up to mischief again, this time with their combined genius assisting them in their plans, as they go camping with the man soon to become their stepfather. 
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> -A
> 
> UPDATE: 19/12/2020: my tumblr url is now @barricadebops :)


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our twin heroes team up their collective smarts as they go camping with their Dad and the man soon to become their stepfather. Featuring pranks, shenanigans, and a twist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear readers!
> 
> We're getting closer to the end! Hold on tight, it's just a few more weeks!
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All the characters belong to Les Miserables, and the dialogue and plot belongs to The Parent Trap.
> 
> -A

For what seemed like the hundredth time this hour, they were stopping so that Montparnasse could catch his breath once more. Cosette felt like screaming; not only was this camping trip going to take forever, but it wasn’t even being attended by the one person who Cosette and her sister had gone through painstaking planning to convince. She wondered bitterly what her Papa was even doing back at home, all alone. Bahorel, Uncle ‘Ferre, and Uncle Courf had all planned to go out and explore the state; perhaps he ended up tagging along with them.

"Oh! I’m going to kill my trainer! He says I’m in great shape.” Another groan from the man had Cosette rolling her eyes impatiently, pushing her way past where he had seated himself on a rock, her sister in close pursuit. Even now, the two had dressed themselves in matching flannels and khakis, the only difference being the colour of baseball hats they wore. “I can’t believe people do this for fun!” 

_God, he’s so stupid._ She shared an exasperated look with her sister.

“Wait, girls, we’re stopping,” her Dad called out. Cosette let out a noise of frustration, and she turned around to face him.

“Again? Dad, at this point it’ll take us three days just to get to camp!” 

“If Papa was here, we would have been setting up camp right now,” she heard Eponine mutter. Their Dad glared at them. 

“Montparnasse isn’t used to the altitude. Just chill, okay?” When Montparnasse at last decided he had caught his breath, they finally started to move again. Eponine leaned in close. 

“You flank from behind; I’ll keep up front.” With a swift nod, Cosette purposefully slowed her steps so that she fell in behind Montparnasse. Subtly, she zipped open his no-doubt needlessly-expensive backpack and started slipping in rocks. Eponine turned to look at her and tried her hardest not to smile. After a while, Montparnasse stopped once more. 

“I am in serious pain,” he wheezed. “Somebody hand me my Evian. I can’t move.” _How pretentious._ Out of the corner of her eye, Cosette spotted a lizard scurrying along the path. Smirking, she picked it up gently and placed it on the expensive water bottle. 

“Here you go, Mont!” she handed him the bottle casually, watching as he brought it up to his lips to take a sip. Once he spotted the reptile, his eyes went cross and he screamed, dropping it to the ground. Cosette bit back a laugh, and when Eponine and her Dad turned around and rushed back towards them, she could see that her sister was doing the same. 

“Are you okay? What happened?” her Dad asked Montparnasse frantically. Picking up the lizard again, Cosette showed it off to them. 

“This little guy was on his Evian,” she explained with a smile. She then dangled it in front of the panicked man. “He won’t hurt you Mont.” He screamed again and scrambled backwards. 

“Get that thing away from me!” he cried. “I hate things that crawl! Ugh, how can you even touch it? It’s disgusting… it’s a lizard, it should be a belt!” At these last words, Cosette narrowed her eyes and clenched her jaw. 

“Just because he’s an animal doesn’t give you the right to decide what happens to him. And by the way, I’ll have you know that the leather industry is extremely cruel and—”

“Alright, alright! That’s enough!” Montparnasse sneered. “Who taught you all of that, your darling Papa?” Eponine came up beside her and glared daggers at the man.

“Yes, he did, and that alone makes him twenty thousand leagues better than you. Now come on and move,” her sister said with gritted teeth. In the midst of their glaring contest, their Dad called out for them.

“Girls?”

“What?”

“I’m taking the lead. You two help Montparnasse, alright?” The twins gave him a pair of innocent smiles. 

“Of course,” they replied sweetly. Beside them, Montparnasse scowled.

"Sure you'll help me," he muttered, "right off a cliff." 

"Not a bad idea," Eponine mused. "See any cliffs?" Cosette smiled deviously. 

"Not at the moment, no, but I think we can make do with what we have." Lizard still in hand, Cosette walked over to where her Dad's fiance was too preoccupied with trying to pick up his bag to notice her drop the tiny reptile onto his head. From behind her, Eponine snickered. 

Moaning miserably, Montparnasse finally stood with his backpack in hand. "My backpack," he groaned. Her sister stepped forward. 

"Need a hand with that, Monty?" The man glared at both of them. 

"Not from you. Don't think I can't see past those little angelic faces. One more trick, and I promise you I _will_ make your lives miserable from the day I say _I do._ Got it?" 

"Got it, Hans," Cosette taunted under her breath. Montparnasse narrowed his eyes at her. 

"What did you call me?" She smiled innocently.

"Nothing," when she walked away she added, "Hans." After a few steps, her sister turned around and called out to him.

"Oi, Monty, I think you've got a little something on your head," Eponine hollered. The man snarled at them. 

"What are you…" whatever he wanted to say was lost to the wind as he let out a blood-curdling scream. Once he had stopped walking, the lizard had crawled down from his head and onto his face; paralyzed by fear, Montparnasse had been unable to do anything as the tiny thing made its way down his face and into his mouth, at which point he had regained his senses and spat out the poor thing. Cosette had felt bad, but not for Montparnasse: she couldn't imagine the trauma the poor little lizard must have gone through when it entered such a horrid man's mouth. She wrinkled her nose at the thought. 

Their Dad came running back as Montparnasse continued to rinse out his mouth with his expensive mineral water. "What happened? What's wrong?" 

After gargling for a few more minutes, Montparnasse pointed at them, panting. "Ask them," he hissed viciously. Cosette and her sister feigned looks of confusion. 

"What did we do, Dad?" she asked. 

"Yeah, we were right behind you," Eponine pitched in. 

Their Dad gave them an unimpressed look.

_______________________________________

After hours of hiking up the mountain trail, the group had finally made it to the campground, where together, Eponine, Cosette and their Dad set up the tent. Over on the side, Montparnasse sat moaning about how miserable his body felt, vowing how he would never go camping again. While they were grueling out the work to get the ground set up, he was rubbing the mosquito repellent given to him by Eponine and Cosette.

 _Someone please shut him up,_ Eponine thought, annoyed. 

At the present moment, they were all sitting around the crackling campfire as Eponine and their Dad roasted and ate a freshly caught trout, while her sister nibbled on the roasted vegetables Bahorel had packed for her. Montparnasse had vehemently denied his offering of trout, which had left him without anything to eat for the night. Eponine had caught him staring at Cosette's meal, but she knew he would never ask her for even the slightest morsel on accounts of his astronomically huge ego. Cosette knew this too, which is why she ate her food extra slow, smiling at the man each time she took a bite. The sight was hilarious, and Eponine's tongue ached from how hard she had to bite it to keep from bursting out laughing. 

"Are you sure you don't want any trout, _Papa_? Is that okay, to call you Papa?" Eponine asked Montparnasse for about the tenth time in ten minutes. He grit his teeth to look at her as he continued to rub the solution over his arms.

"I really think your Papa would prefer you call me Montparnasse. And no, for the thousandth time, I do not eat trout. I'll just wait until breakfast. What are we having?" 

Together, her Dad and she responded, "Trout." Her sister simply smiled. 

Her Dad fiddled with his roasting stick. "We always live off of the trail, and that includes eating off of it too," he told his fiance. Throwing a wink in Cosette's direction, he added, "Unless you're our little vegetarian animal-rights preacher like Cosette is here."

"Or Papa," her sister declared loudly. 

"It's part of the experience," their Dad finished hastily. Montparnasse scoffed. 

"Yeah? And what's the other part, getting eaten to death by mosquitoes?" he asked sarcastically while speeding up the pace at which he rubbed at his arms. "You'd think they like this stuff!" he exclaimed as he continued to swat at any unwelcome buzzes flying through the air. Their Dad looked at him curiously. 

"What's that you're using?" he asked suspiciously. Her Dad took the bottle from his fiance and squirted some of the liquid onto his palm, first sniffing it, then tasting it. He snorted and rolled his eyes. "You're going to attract every mosquito on the mountain if you keep using this," he told him flatly. "It's sugar-water. Where did you even get this?" 

If looks could kill, Eponine supposed that she and her sister would have been six feet under the ground at this point. 

"That's it!" Montparnasse exclaimed. "I am taking one large sleeping pill and going to bed!" He stood up, and to Eponine's massive amusement, began to bang together two sticks. Their Dad stared. 

"Montparnasse, what are you doing?" His fiancé turned back to look at them. 

"I don't want the mountain lions to—" he stopped abruptly. "There are no mountain lions up here, are there?" 

"No," their Dad replied, sighing and rubbing at his face with a large hand. Glaring at her and her sister, the man made his way towards their Dad. He sat himself down on his lap and kissed him long and slow. Eponine rolled her eyes and turned away with a furious huff; beside her, Cosette was trying her best not to gag. The sight left Eponine seeing red. 

_Get your filthy hands off of him!_

When he was finally finished, he smirked at the twins, who were looking downright murderous. 

"Goodnight." 

_I'll show you what's a goodnight,_ Eponine thought as various ideas of how she could get her revenge floated through her brain. However, she had no time to dwell on them, because as soon as Montparnasse left, her Dad turned to face her and her sister. 

"Girls, I'm telling you to lay off. This isn't his thing," he said, his green eyes devoid of any amusement they usually held. "So just cool it." From beside her, Cosette spoke up quietly. 

"But we can't cool it, Dad," she started, looking up into his eyes plainly. "We really can't. Because we've been trying for so long to make you face the truth but all you do is run away from it!" Her voice was rising now. "Tell me the truth, Dad, do you really love Montparnasse? Or are you just trying to look for love within him? Because I'll tell you for a fact that it's definitely not love that he's looking for in you."

"Cosette—" 

Her sister held up a hand. "I'm not finished. We both know what you're doing, Dad. You're looking for love in a man who won't give it. But what you fail to realize is that you've already found the love you so desperately seek; he's just sitting back at home in Napa." With that, her sister sat up and walked away to the tent they were sharing. Eponine stood to chase after her, cursing herself for being unable to remember whether or not they had packed Cosette's anxiety medication. She gave her Dad one last hesitant look over her shoulder. 

"She's right," she told him, tearing off after her sister and leaving behind a shell-shocked Dad. 

_______________________________________

Nothing made Cosette feel better than some good old fashioned scheming. She supposed that was Uncle Courf's fault, but it was too late to change her ways.

After Eponine had helped her sufficiently calm down, they had sat together and discussed one last trick to oust Montparnasse out of their lives for good, and honestly, Cosette thought it was the greatest trick (besides the whole twin-switch they had pulled recently) she and Eponine would ever execute. 

"I hope that one large sleeping pill worked," she grunted out as she and her sister worked to pull Montparnasse out of the tent by his mattress. 

"God, he's heavy," her twin wheezed. Cosette snorted.

“Maybe you’re just weak.”

“I am not weak! I box!”

“Alright, alright, your might is superior to the rest of us poor mortals, equal to that of Hercules. Happy?”

“I’m not superior to anyone. Everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses, but that doesn’t make them any lesser than the next person.” 

“Oh my God you need to stop listening to Papa’s rants.”

“And you need to stop reading Dad’s books of classic mythology.”

“Just focus on the task at hand!”

“Tell yourself that!” 

"He snores too," Cosette remarked after a few seconds of silence, as she listened to the sleeping man snore softly. When she almost tripped over backwards, he shifted in his sleep. 

"Rene?" he whispered in his dream-state as they lowered his mattress onto the water. The two watched as he gently floated away. Cosette smirked.

"Sweet dreams, father dearest."

_______________________________________

Considering what they did last night, no one except their Dad was surprised to wake up to the sound of Montparnasse's scream. 

"RENE!" 

Eponine watched as their Dad stumbled out of his tent, eyes bleary until he caught sight of Montparnasse and his floating mattress in the middle of the lake. 

"Oh shit," she heard him mumble under his breath.

As Montparnasse splashed his way to shore, pajamas dripping with lake water, he kicked the coffee pot and stomped his way over to where their Dad was trying to better wake himself up. 

"What's going on?" he asked calmly, no doubt already trying to diffuse the situation before it got too bad. 

"Here's what's going on, buddy," Montparnasse snarled and jabbed a finger at his broad chest. "The day we get married is the day I ship those brats," he pointed to the Eponine and Cosette, who stood proudly beside each other, grasping each other's hands, unafraid, "to Switzerland! Get the picture? It's either me or them! Take your pick!" He stared long and hard into their Dad's unimpressed face. For a moment, their Dad turned to look at them. Then sighing, he brought his eyes back to meet Montparnasse's. 

"Them," he stated, the epitome of calm and cool. Montparnasse's face contorted with rage. 

"Excuse me?" Their Dad leaned in closer. 

"T-H-E-M," he said, mocking the other man, "them. Get the picture?" 

Eponine squeezed her sister's hand and grinned at her. For the first time since her little speech last night, Eponine saw her sister laugh. 

_Goodbye Hans!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They did it! They broke them up! But can they get their parents together??? Stay tuned for next week to find out!
> 
> I have a Tumblr now! Come say hi and drop a follow @at-the-barricades-of-stupidity, or feel free to rec my work to others on the site.
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> -A
> 
> UPDATE: 19/12/2020: my tumblr url is now @barricadebops :)


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feelings and doubts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear readers!
> 
> I'll just let you read this chapter. Enjoy?
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All the characters belong to Les Miserables, and the dialogue and plot belongs to The Parent Trap.
> 
> -A

Grantaire felt as if the trip back home should have been incredibly subdued, given the recent turn of events. However, as he listened to the girls giggling in the backseat, he himself couldn't help but crack a small smile (that he of course could not allow the girls to see, not while he's playing up this whole "angry Dad" part.) He didn't know when he would tell them this, but he felt like a huge burden had been lifted off of his shoulders. 

When they finally arrived back at the house, he wordlessly led the girls towards the front door. He stopped in his tracks, however, when his brain registered the sight in front of him. Enjolras was dressed in a simple red t-shirt and jeans, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he read a book while sitting on a rocker on the front porch. In the bright glow of the setting sun, his golden hair looked as if it had been weaved from the rays of light itself. The image was so soft, so domestic, that it left Grantaire breathless. The girls walked on ahead of him, which earned Enjolras' attention. He looked up and… _Oh my God. He's wearing reading glasses._

_Adorably dorky reading glasses._

_Stop thinking things like that!_

_Why? It's not like you're engaged anymore!_

With a snap, Enjolras closed the book and pushed his glasses up to rest on top of his head as he walked up to greet them. 

"Hello. You're back early." he remarked. "Did you have fun?"

"I wouldn't really say fun, no," he muttered darkly as he glared at his twin daughters. They both winced. 

"You wouldn't?" Enjolras raised an eyebrow.

"We've been punished through the end of the century," Eponine explained with a grimace. Grantaire's lips pressed in a thin line.

"Starting now," he said. "Go." Enjolras looked at the three of them in confusion. 

"Where's Montparnasse?" he asked once he realized the dark-haired man was nowhere to be seen. 

Cosette shrugged. "We played a few harmless tricks on him and he kind of freaked out a little." Grantaire raised his eyebrows at her in disbelief. 

"A little?" He dug through his pockets and produced a gold ring—the same one he had proposed to his ex fiance with. "He threw this at my head and left!" Enjolras gave him an apologetic smile. 

"At least it's smaller than a hairdryer." _Very funny._ The blond sighed and ran a hand through his curls. "I'm sorry, Grantaire. This is my fault. If I hadn't suggested he go…" 

"Tricked would be more like it," he interrupted. Enjolras smiled sheepishly at him. "Still using that clever brain of yours. Like father, like daughters." 

"I really am sorry." 

"We are too, Dad." Cosette piped up. 

Eponine nodded her head earnestly, "Really." 

"Up to your rooms!" As he watched their retreating figures, Grantaire allowed himself to finally crack a smile. "I gotta remember to thank them one-day," he chuckled as he heard a door upstairs shut. He turned around to see Enjolras look up at him perplexed. 

"You mean to say that you are relieved?" When he nodded his head, Enjolras asked the one question he had been hoping he wouldn't think about: "Why?" 

_Why? It's because what Cosette told me has been running through my head nonstop. It's because I can't stop thinking about what might have happened if I had chased after you that night twelve years ago. It's because I haven't gone a single day in these past years without remembering your smile, or your soft blush, or the way your eyes would light up when you were talking about something that made you passionate._

_It's because of you Enjolras. It's always been because of you._

Taking a deep breath, Grantaire looked him straight in the eyes. "I guess…" he started, "I guess I was looking for love in the wrong place." When it was clear that Enjolras wouldn't say anything further about this, he turned away and quietly sighed. "I'm starving," he declared loudly, hoping to dissolve the awkward atmosphere he had just created. "Where's Bahorel?" 

"He took Combeferre and Courfeyrac out to see the state," Enjolras replied. Grantaire quirked an eyebrow at him. 

"Really? Why didn't you tag along? I'm sure there are many parts of California you haven't seen yet." When he turned back around, he saw that Enjolras looked oddly flushed and was fumbling with his hands. 

"I thought I'd wait for you instead," he mumbled, which put Grantaire in a considerably better mood. 

"Alright," he said, smiling wide, "well then why don't I whip us up something to eat? From what I last remember, you could never get enough of my pasta aglio e olio." Enjolras looked up at that and gave him a small smile. 

"I think I'd like that." 

_______________________________________

After a quick shower, clean shave, and a fresh change of clothes into a dress shirt rolled up to the elbows coupled with a pair of jeans, Grantaire figured he was now at least decently presentable (he hoped; seriously, there weren't many people Grantaire shaved himself clean for) for dinner. As he walked past the twins bedroom, he heard a loud whistle. 

"Wow! Lookin' good Dad!" Eponine yelled. 

"Where are you going dressed so nice?" Cosette teased. He rolled his eyes and closed the door. 

"Goodnight girls!”

When he walked downstairs into the kitchen and dining room, he spotted Enjolras with his back turned to him as he set the table. Grantaire resisted the urge to wrap his arms around the blond's petite body. 

"Wow, it smells good in here," he remarked. Enjolras turned around and looked at him curiously. 

"Really? I'm just boiling some water." Grantaire winked at him.

"Oh? Then it must just be you." Enjolras blushed a furious red. Grantaire would never get tired of making him blush. Not only did he look absolutely breathtaking like that, but it also reminded him that Enjolras was only human too, that he made stupid mistakes like the rest of them, got sick (and adorably pouty too), and had his own weaknesses. The rest of the world saw him as the unflinching marble statue that would walk with the aura of a god. Make no mistake, Grantaire did too, when he would watch him take people apart in debates with his ferocious arguments, as he called for the liberation of humanity and the fight for equal rights; yes of course he knew that Enjolras, warrior Enjolras, avenging archangel Enjolras who never stopped and never stuttered. But he also knew the human Enjolras who needed to be taken care of when ill, who fumbled with his hands and played with his hair when he was nervous, and would blush easily at the barest of compliments. 

He knew the Enjolras who had shared that part of himself when they were married. 

Rummaging through the cabinets, he found two wine glasses and then set them on the table. 

"Right, so were you thinking red or white wine?" It took a moment of silence before Grantaire remembered that _Enjolras doesn't drink._ Just as he was about to put away the glasses and apologize, however, Enjolras opened his mouth to speak. 

"I think," he hesitated, "I think I'd like to try some red wine." 

Grantaire smiled. 

"Follow me."

_______________________________________

_Grantaire’s private wine cellar really is beautiful,_ he thought to himself as the taller man led them through the chilled chamber. Just because Enjolras wasn’t such a huge fan of drinking doesn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate the beauty of the subject. The cellar looked a little like a library; bottles of wine were lined up on the shelves like books with ladders leaning up against them. The room was lit up in a soft glow cast by the lanterns affixed in the corners. 

_Nothing,_ Enjolras thought, _in this room is as beautiful as Grantaire, though._ Then he chastised himself for having the thought. Just because the man had been broken up with did not suddenly make himself available to Enjolras. Not that Enjolras would have even cared if he was available to him. 

Because he and Grantaire would never be a thing again. He was just passing the time until his flight tomorrow that would take him back home and faraway from the barrage of emotions he had had to face here in California. 

Underneath his shirt, Enjolras toyed with the wedding ring he had given to Eponine. He had noticed it lying on her dresser when she had been getting ready to leave for the camping trip. It was affixed to a chain. Unable to leave it alone, he had found himself drawn to the piece of jewelry. He supposed he should give it back to the girl now that she was back, but when he told her that he was borrowing it for a while, she simply smiled at him and told him, “You keep it.”

So here he was now, wearing the wedding ring he didn’t know why he had kept, praying that Grantaire wouldn’t realize he was wearing it around his neck, close to his heart. 

“This is my private stash,” Grantaire’s voice in front of him startled him out of his thoughts. “Did you know I also collect wine?” 

“Really?” he replied, a little breathless. Grantaire grinned at him.

“I’m a man of limited interests.” He laughed, but Enjolras remembered something else about him. 

“I wouldn’t say you have limited interests. Do you still paint?” In front of him, Grantaire’s steps faltered. When he turned around, there was an odd gleam in his eyes. 

“Yeah, I do. You remember?” Enjolras frowned. 

“Of course I do.” Grantaire smiled softly and turned back around, stopping near a shelf. He took a bottle of wine in his hands and flourished the label at him. 

“Come here,” he beckoned him forwards. Hesitantly, Enjolras walked to stand in front of him. “This is a 1921 Burgundy. They say the rain that year made this the best Burgundy ever harvested.” Enjolras nodded along and pretended to know what Grantaire was talking about so he didn’t look like such a big fool. 

“That’s quite incredible. It was made back in 1921?” The man smiled at him.

“I knew you would appreciate that.” Looking around at the other bottles, his eyes snagged on a familiar bottle. There was something he recognized about it, but he couldn’t put his finger on it… 

Bravely, he reached his hand for it and held it out for the taller man to look at. “What’s this one? _Where dreams have no end…”_

“That one took years to track down,” Grantaire told him, taking the bottle gently from his hands. 

“Why? Where’s it from?” Grantaire stared into his eyes, bright and bold. 

“This is the wine we drank at our wedding. I now have every bottle ever made.” 

_Oh._

Grantaire found the wine, the only wine that Enjolras had drank and kept down with a smile, and kept it preserved in his cellar for twelve years. 

_Oh._

Much like Enjolras had kept his wedding ring. 

Which Grantaire, who had the eyes of an artist, made to pick out even the smallest of details, had not failed to notice. His gaze was drawn to the ring resting under Enjolras’ shirt collar. 

“What’s this?” he murmured as he brushed a hand over Enjolras’ chest, feeling for the ring. He felt his mouth run dry as he realized just how close the two were standing to each other.

“Oh, uhm…” he trailed off as Grantaire pushed the ring up and out into the open where he peered at it closer, drawing Enjolras closer to himself. The taller man looked down into his eyes inquisitively. 

“Is this your wedding ring?” he asked softly. Swallowing, he nodded slowly. His eyes caught on the words _mon Ange_ engraved on the inside. When he looked back up at Grantaire, he saw the man was looking bright and intently into his eyes. Enjolras felt his breath catch as Grantaire lifted a large hand to cup his cheek. Instinctively, he leaned up and closed his eyes. 

Was this what he wanted? As he felt himself being lifted and drawn closer and closer, he figured he could no longer avoid the question. For twelve years the same _what if_ question had haunted his thoughts. _What if we handled things more maturely? Would we have still been married? Would we have still lived together?_ At the present moment, however, there was one clear question that was making its way through his mind. 

_Am I falling in love again?_

As the space between them got smaller and smaller, Enjolras had discovered the answer to the last question, at least, and it was a hard _no._ Because— and he thought about the fact that he had likely known this for a long time but had simply avoided confronting the truth— he wasn’t falling in love _again,_ it was that he had always _been_ in love. He had never stopped, not in twelve years of separation, not in twelve years of trying to move on, not even when he had seen Grantaire with his (now ex) fiance. It was why he felt his heartbreak when the twins had told him about his engagement, and ecstatic about his break up. For the longest time, he realized that this is what he wanted. _Never in his life had he wanted anything so badly—_

But he couldn’t have what he wanted. It would mess up everything they already had. Both he and Grantaire were both successful in their own lives, thousands of miles away from each other. If they didn’t work out back then, what made him think they would now? What made him think that Grantaire even really wanted him? No, he needed to be content with what he had now. 

Maybe he would never truly be satisfied in life. But he had to try. Because no matter how much he wanted, he couldn’t have this.

“Grantaire, I can’t,” he whispered, putting his hands on the broader man’s chest to stop him. He felt hot breath ghost across his face. 

“You don’t always have to be so brave, Enjolras.” He shook his head and stepped further away, unwilling to open his eyes and look at Grantaire. 

“Yes I do.” The sound of a car pulling up above them on a driveway made his head turn. 

“It looks like Bahorel and the others have arrived. We should go see them.” Enjolras allowed himself one last look at Grantaire, who gazed at him sadly, before turning away to head up the stairs, and, next morning, head out of Grantaire’s life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :(
> 
> I have a Tumblr now! Come say hi and drop a follow @at-the-barricades-of-stupidity, or feel free to rec my work to others on the site.
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> -A
> 
> UPDATE: 19/12/2020: my tumblr url is now @barricadebops :)


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leaving and making decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear readers!
> 
> Read. 
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All the characters belong to Les Miserables, and the dialogue and plot belongs to The Parent Trap.
> 
> -A

Never in her life had Eponine felt such bitter sadness. She spent the morning holding onto her sister’s hand, desperate for every last second she could get with her. She watched as her twin stepped forward to embrace her Dad before departing from him again. Eponine herself clung back to her Papa fiercely, trying to savour and memorize every last moment she had with him before she knew he had to leave again. That morning, both of her parents seemed incredibly dismayed. In reality, she knew that it was her Papa who was hugging her, but as Eponine held onto his frail figure, which seemed even more pronounced in the day’s atmosphere, she couldn’t help but feel like she was offering him more comfort than the other way around. 

When she finally pulled away, he gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead and a sad smile before she turned away to hug her sister. Her sister’s warmth was familiar and comforting, and Eponine tried her best not to let the thought of the months of separation ahead let the tears that had sprung up in her eyes slip and fall down her cheeks. She knew it had only been a few weeks since they had discovered each other at camp, but now Eponine couldn't imagine the thought of living without her sister; twins were meant to stay together. The bond twin sisters shared was sacred in a way that no other relationship on Earth would be. And yet, here they were, being forced to sever it for good. 

Together, arm and arm with her sister, they made their way over to where the car awaited to take her Papa and twin to the airport. Just before she got into the car, Cosette turned to her one last time.

“I love you, Ep,” she whispered as she went in for one last tight embrace. Eponine buried her head on Cosette’s shoulder.

“I love you too, ‘Sette.” 

_______________________________________

Grantaire looked into Enjolras’ blue eyes one last time, knowing that after this, he would only have a handful of memories and Eponine’s own eyes to remind him of the life he might have once had. He brought a hand up to gently squeeze Enjolras’ shoulder.

“Take care of yourself,” he whispered. Enjolras smiled tightly at him.

“Yeah, I will. You too.” They stared at each other for a beat more before Grantaire hesitantly bent down to press a light kiss on the blond’s cheek. 

“Bye.” With one last pained look, Grantaire watched as Enjolras stepped out the front door and into the car. 

_...and then you never came after me._

_______________________________________

In the taxi back home in London, Cosette subtly wiped away her tears. She sat alone in a car with her Papa, her Uncle Courf and ‘Ferre in the taxi behind them. She glanced at him, but he simply continued to stare out the window at the rainy London sky. Cosette remembered back to what felt like years ago at summer camp with Eponine. 

_You know, I never really pegged you as a cynic of love. You seem to believe in everything._

_I'm serious when I need to be._

_Well,_ Cosette thought bitterly, _this is where believing in love has gotten me._ She had believed so earnestly in her heart that things would work out. That her Papa and Dad would end up sorting everything neatly. But it seemed the universe was against the very idea of true love itself. Against the love of romance, against the love of siblings, against the love of friendship. She glanced at her Papa again.

_I just wanted him to be happy._

_______________________________________

“Hello? We’re home!” The sound of his voice reverberated throughout the seemingly-empty house. Beside him, Cosette called out.

“Grandfather?” He glanced at her, confused. 

“I’ll check the study,” he announced as he made his way swiftly past her. Enjolras did not want to dwell on the events of the past few days. All he knew was that he craved the comfort of someone familiar and grounding, and that was his own Papa. It had taken him years to trust and eventually come to love Valjean when the man first fostered him. When Valjean had told him that he would legally be adopting him, Enjolras had finally mustered up the courage to call him “Papa.” The smile on Valjean’s face had since then ingrained itself in his memory. He knew that if he could just sit with him for a while, he might be able to find a few moments bliss of comfort. 

Enjolras entered the study to see a large newspaper propped up. He smiled at the familiarity of the sight. 

“ _Bonjour, Papa,”_ he greeted softly. The newspaper lowered. 

Behind it was not his Papa. 

Enjolras stared dumbfounded as Eponine grinned up at him. 

“Hey, Papa,” she greeted casually, “Did you know that the Concorde gets here in half the time?” He continued to gape at her as he tried to make his mouth form distinct words. 

“Yes, I have heard that,” he finally managed to stammer out. Behind him, Cosette walked up and cried out in joy. 

“What are you doing here?” she exclaimed. Eponine grinned back at her.

“Well, it took about thirty seconds after you guys left for us to realize that we didn’t want to lose you two again,” she told them matter-of-factly. He furrowed his eyebrows. 

“We?”

“We.” From the door next to Eponine, a familiar man with wild dark curls and green eyes stepped into the room. Enjolras felt the breath go out of his lungs. “I made the mistake of not going after you once _,_ and I wasn’t going to do it again, no matter how brave you are, _mon Ange._ "

There it was. The nickname that sounded like the tinkle of a bell in Grantaire’s mouth that made Enjolras’ knees give out and pitch forward. Grantaire rushed to catch him; he pressed a hand to the small of his back and used his other to tilt Enjolras’ face to look up at his. Enjolras felt the sting of tears behind his lids. 

“And I suppose you just expect me to go weak at the knees and fall into your arms?” he whispered. Grantaire’s eyes glinted mischievously.

“I think you’re already kind of doing that, _mon Ange,”_ he laughed. Enjolras glared at him half heartedly. 

“Grantaire be serious.” His green eyes were intoxicating.

“I am wild.” Grantaire held him closer against his chest, where he could feel the deep rumble of Grantaire's laugh.

"You never did call me Enjolras back then, and you're not doing it now either. Why won't you just call me by my name?" Enjolras whispered.

Grantaire smiled at him wolfishly. "Maybe because I'm hoping that you'll end up becoming Mr. Enjolras-Grantaire?" Enjolras blushed and tried to turn his face away, but found his chin gently being guided to look back up at Grantaire as he spoke. 

“Right, well then I suppose you just expect me to tell you that _we’ll figure this all out._ A bi-continental relationship with our daughters being raised here and there and… and you and I just picking up where we left off… and growing old together and…” as Enjolras’ voice grew quieter and quieter, Grantaire’s smile grew much more bold. His weight was now completely supported by the taller man, who was beginning to lean his face closer and closer to his. Enjolras felt his heart beat pick up; he clutched tighter at the bunches of Grantaire’s shirt he had grabbed at with his fists. He swallowed and finally asked the question he had been longing to ask for so long, “Grantaire, what do you expect? To live happily ever after?” Grantaire smiled softly at him.

“Yes, to all of that. Except you don’t have to cry hysterically about it like you are right now.” With a teasing smile, Grantaire's thumb swiped away a tear that had been trickling down his face. 

He laughed weakly, “Yes I do.” 

And then Grantaire’s lips were crashing down on his, swallowing his gasp of surprise. He wrapped his arms around Grantaire’s neck and pulled him down closer to his height. A hand cupping his cheek tilted his head backwards as he felt Grantaire coax open his mouth and take control of the kiss. He moaned just a little before pulling away to smile shyly. Oh how he had missed this. He gazed up at Grantaire, who beamed at him, before Enjolras pulled his head down once more to capture his lips. 

_I want this. I want this. I want this._

Enjolras liked to know everything. He liked to be able to control what was around him and afforded life no surprises. Perhaps then, it was for this reason that he had been denying himself the happiness that was right there in his reach. It felt rather gratifying, as if he were standing perched on the edge of a cliff, unable to see what was below him. As he gazed down into the unknown, he asked himself:

_Can I let myself fall?_

And the answer was yes. Because he may not know much about this mysterious path ahead of them, but he knew that Grantaire would be waiting on the bottom, ready to catch him when he fell. He knew that the road they were going to go down was made of unknown terrain; but as he stood there in Grantaire's arms, the taller man's lips trailing down his neck and peppering him with kisses and gentle bites that made him gasp and buzz with a sort of passion he had not felt for twelve years, as he gently pressed his own trembling fingertips on Grantaire's jaw to guide him back towards his waiting lips, he discovered that maybe there was something a little enthralling about the uncharted. He thought about the doubts that had been eating him up from the inside when he had looked at Grantaire; _what made him think that Grantaire even really wanted him?_

This time, Grantaire chased him down. This time, Grantaire didn’t let him go. And it seemed that he never would let him go again. 

With Grantaire by his side, he would venture into the unknown with a smile and a positive hope.

He would get his happily ever after too. 

_______________________________________

“Oh my God!” Cosette squealed as she watched her parents twine into each other in the most spectacularly passionate kiss she had witnessed in her life ( _The Notebook_ who?) She grinned at Eponine across the room and put a hand to her chest, swooning.

“I know right! We actually did it!” Eponine jumped across the desk and grabbed her sister in a fierce hug. 

It turns out, twin power really is a thing after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOHOO! WE DID IT! THEY DID IT! YOU DON'T HAVE TO SUFFER PINING ANYMORE!
> 
> That's it you guys! It's finally over! Our idiots finally got their shit together! Now all that's left is the epilogue that I have uploaded at the same time, right now. Now go read it!
> 
> I have a Tumblr now! Come say hi and drop a follow @at-the-barricades-of-stupidity, or feel free to rec my work to others on the site.
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> -A
> 
> UPDATE: 19/12/2020: my tumblr url is now @barricadebops :)


	17. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, an epilogue! 
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All the characters belong to Les Miserables, and the dialogue and plot belongs to The Parent Trap.
> 
> -A

_This will be an everlasting love…_

We see a photo album open up. Inside is a recreated version of the QE2. Around a white dinner table sits Enjolras and Grantaire, fitted in wedding attire, smiling at each other. There are a few photos taken of the same pose. In one, Grantaire has pulled Enjolras onto his lap to kiss him. 

_This will be the one I’ve waited for…_

In another picture, the two smile at each other as they cut a wedding cake baked in the shape of the QE2. 

_I’m so glad he found me in time, and I’m so glad he rectified my mind…_

In another image, Grantaire dips Enjolras in a wedding waltz. He laughs as Enjolras holds onto him for dear life. The next shot reveals an image of Grantaire softly kissing Enjolras as he holds him in the dip.

_Because you’ve shown me just how much you care…_

In a group photo, Enjolras is surrounded on either side by the two people he calls his brothers, Combeferre and Courfeyrac, smiling as the trio slings their arms over each others' shoulders. 

_You’ve given me the thrill of a lifetime…_

A picture reveals Bahorel and Grantaire standing next to each other, his best friend giving Grantaire a pep talk before the big moment. 

_This will be an everlasting love, oh yes, it will now…_

In another photo, we see Enjolras and Grantaire with their arms wrapped around their two daughters, Eponine and Cosette. The four of them are smiling into the camera. 

_And no one, no one can take the place of you…_

In the final photo, we have a close up of the twins, who are beaming at the camera, and winking mischievously. 

_This will be you and me, yes, siree, eternally. Huggin' and squeezin'…_

THE END. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! We're finally done! It's done! The story is complete.
> 
> Guys, this was a labour of love, and I know that sounds a little silly on a fanfiction, but it's true. Thank you to anyone who has given this work a chance and left kudos. Especially to those who left comments-- if you've ever left one, thank you so much, they really kept me going! 
> 
> This was my first foray into writing and posting fanfic, and I have to admit, I'm pretty happy with the way it turned out! But honestly, I can't thank anyone who actually took the time to read it enough. You guys are great!
> 
> I do have two more (major) fanfics about this couple/fandom coming up, so if you liked this work, stay tuned for more! 
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> -A
> 
> I have a Tumblr now! Come say hi and drop a follow @at-the-barricades-of-stupidity, or feel free to rec my work to others on the site.
> 
> UPDATE: 19/12/2020: my tumblr url is now @barricadebops :)


End file.
